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GENTLE MEASURES 



IN THE 



MANAGEMENT AND TRAINING 
OF THE YOUNG, 



GENTLE MEASUIIES 



IN THE 



MANAGEMENT AND TRAINING 
OF THE YOUNG; 

OR, 

THE PEINCIPLES ON WHICH A FIRM PARENTAL AUTHORITY MAY BE 
ESTABLISHED AND MAINTAINED, WITHOUT VIOLENCE OR ANGER, 
AND THE RIGHT DEVELOPMENT OF THE MORAL AND MEN- 
TAL CAPACITIES BE PROMOTED BY METHODS IN HAR- 
MONY WITH THE STRUCTURE AND THE CHARAC- 
TERISTICS OF THE JUVENILE MIND. 

/ 
Br JACOB ABBOTT, 

AUTHOB OF "SOIENOE FOE THE YOUNG," " HARPEE'S STOEY BOOKS," "fEANOONU 
BTOEIES," "aBBOTT'8 ILLTT8TEATED HISTORIES," ETC. 



NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS. 




NKW YORK AND LONDON : 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

189 9. 



•••# 




42148 

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, bj( 

Harper & Brothers, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



Copyright, 1899, by Edward Abbott and Lyman Abbott. 



TWO COPIES RECEIVED. 




f.^ 4^Q 



vV C' 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. P^Qg 

Three Modes of Management 11 

CHAPTER II. 
What are Gentle Measures? IG 

CHAPTER III. 
There must be Authority 26 

CHAPTER IV. 
Gentle Punishment of Disobedience 43 

CHAPTER V. 
The Philosophy of Punishment 60 

CHAl^TER VI. 
Rewarding Obedience 81 

CHAPTER VII. 
The Art of Training.... 94 

CHAPTER VIII. 
Methods Exemplified 105 

CHAPTER IX. 
Deixa and the Dolls 114 

CHAPTER X. 
Sympathy: — I. The Child with the Parent 121 

CHAPTER XI. 
Sympathy: — II. The Parent with the Child 131 

CHAPTER XII. 
Commendation and Encouragement 144 



viii CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XIII. P^Q, 

Faults op Immaturity 160 

CHAPTER XIV. 
The Activity of Children 177 

CHAPTER XV. 
The Imagination in Children 196 

CHAPTER XVI. 
Truth and Falsehood 215 

CHAPTER XVII. 
Judgment and Reasoning 228 

CHAPTER XVIII. 
Wishes and Requests 244 

CHAPTER XIX. 
Children's Questions 254 

CHAPTER XX. 
The Use of Money 268 

CHAPTER XXI. 
Corporal Punishment 281 

CHAPTER XXII. 
Gratitude in Children 295 

CHAPTER XXIII. 
Religious Training 308 

CHAPTER XXIV. 
Conclusion 327 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



Pagb 
AurHOKiTT Frontispiece. 

Indulgence 36 

"It is not Safe" 78 

The Lesson in Obedience 99 

Roundabout Instruction 116 

Afraid op the Cow 139 

The Intention good 168 

The Imaginative Faculty 206 

Story of the Horse 234 

"Mother, what iviakes it Snow?" 260 

The Runaway 284: 

The First Instinct 314 



A 2 



GENTLE MEASURES. 



CHAPTER T. 

THE THREE MODES OF MANAGEMENT. 

It is not impossible that in the minds of some persona 
the idea of employing gentle measures in the management 
and training of children may seem to imply the abandon- 
ment of the principle of authority, as the basis of the pa- 
rental government, and the substitution of some weak and 
inefficient system of artifice and manoeuvring in its place. 
To suppose that the object of this work is to aid in effect- 
ing such a substitution as that, is entirely to mistake its na- 
ture and design. The only government of the parent over 
the child that is worthy of the name is one of authority — 
complete, absolute, unquestioned authority. The object of 
this work is, accordingly, not to show how the gentle raeth- 
ods^\ which will be brought to view can be employed as a 
substitute for such authority, but how they can be made to 
aid in establishing and maintaining it. 

Three Methods. 

There are three different modes of management custom- 
arily employed by parents as means of inducing their chil- 
dren to comply with their requirements. They are, 

1. Government by Manoeuvring and Artifice. 

2. By Reason and Affection. 

3. By Authority. 



12 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Maiiceuvring and Artifice. 

\ 1. Many mothers manage their children by means of 
tricks and contrivances, more or less adroit, designed to 
avoid direct issues with them, and to beguile them, as it 
were, into compliance with their wishes. As, for example, 
where a mother, recovering from sickness, is going out to 
take the air with her husband for the first time, and — as she 
is still feeble — wishes for a very quiet drive, and so con- 
cludes not to take little Mary Avith her, as she usually does 
on such occasions ; but knowing that if Mary sees the 
chaise at the door, and discovers that her father and moth- 
er, are going in it, she will be very eager to go too, she 
adopts a system of manoeuvres to conceal her design. She 
brings down her bonnet and shawl by stealth, and before 
the chaise comes to the door she sends Mary out into the 
garden Avith her sister, under pretense of showing her a 
bird's nest which is not there, trusting to her sister's skill 
in diverting the child's mind, and amusing her with some- 
thing else in the garden, until the chaise has gone. And 
if, either from hearing the sound of the wheels, or from 
any other cause, Mary's suspicions are awakened — and 
cliildren habitually managed on these principles soon learn 
to be extremely distrustful and suspicious — and she insists 
on going into the house, and thus discovers the stratagem, 
then, perhaps, her mother tells her that they are only going 
to the doctor's, and that if Mary goes with them, the doctor 
will give her some dreadful medicine, and compel her to 
tnkc it, thinkinfj; thus to deter her from insistin2: on ejoino: 
with them to ride. 

As the chaise drives away, Mary stands bewildered and 
perplexed on the door-step, her mind in a tumult of excite- 
ment, in which hatred of the doctor, distrust and suspicion 
of her mother, disappointment, vexation, and ill humor, surge 



THE THREE MODES OF MANAGEMENT. 13 

and swell among those delicate organizations on wliieh 
the structure and development of the soul so closely de- 
pend — doing perhaps an irreparable injury. The moth- 
er, as soon as the chaise is so far turned that Mary can no 
longer watch the expression of her countenance, goes away 
from the door with a smile of complacency and satisfac- 
tion upon her face at the ingenuity and success of her little 
artifice. 

In respect to her statement that she was going to the 
doctor's, it may, or may not, have been true. Most likely 
not ; for mothers who manage their children on this sys- 
tem find the line of demarkation between deceit and false- 
hood so vague and ill defined that they soon fall into the 
habit of disregarding it altogether, and of saying, without 
hesitation, any thing which will serve the purpose in view. 

<- Governing by Reason and Affection. 

2. The theory of many mothers is that they must gov- 
ern their children by the influence of reason and affection. 
Their method may be exemplified by supposing that, under 
circumstances similar to those described under the preced- 
ing head, the mother calls Mary to her side, and, smoothing 
her hair caressingly with her hand while she speaks, says 
to her, 

" Mary, your father and I are going out to ride this af- 
ternoon, and I am going to explain it all to you why you 
can not go too. You see, I have been sick, and am getting 
well, and I am going out to ride, so that I may get well 
faster. You love mamma, I am sure, and wish to have her 
get well soon. So you will be a good girl, I know, and 
not make any trouble, but will stay at home contentedly — 
won't you? Then I shall love you, and your papa will 
love you, and after I get well we will take you to ride with 
UB some day." 



14 GENTLE MEASUMES. 

The mother, in managing the case in this way, relies part 
ly on convincing the reason of the child, and partly on an 
appeal to her affection. 

Governmg by Authority. 

3. By the third method the mother secures the compli- 
ance of the child by a direct exercise of authority.. She 
says to her — the circumstances of the case being still sup- 
posed to be the same — 

" Mary, your father and I are going out to ride this after- 
noon, and I am sorry, for your sake, that we can not take 
you with us." 

" Why can't you take me ?" asks Mary. 

" I can not tell you why, now," repHes the mother, " but 
perhaps I will explain it to you after I come home. I think 
there is a good reason, and, at any rate, I have decided that 
you are not to go,. If you are a good girl, and do not make 
any difficulty, you can have your little chair out upon the 
front door-step, and can see the chaise come to the door, 
and see your father and me get in and drive away; and 
you can wave your handkerchief to us for a good-bye." 

Then, if she observes any expression of discontent or 
insubmission in Mary's countenance, the mother would 
add, 

" If you should 7iot be a good girl, but should show signs 
of making us any trouble, I shall have to send you out 
somewhere to the back part of the house until we are 
gone." 

But this last supposition is almost always unnecessary ; 
for if Mary has been habitually managed on this principle 
she will not make any trouble. She will perceive at once 
that the question is settled — settled irrevocably — and espe- 
cially that it is entirely beyond the power of any demon- 
strations of insubmission or rebellion that she can make to 



THE TREEE 3WDES OF MANAGEMENT. 15 

change it. She will acquiesce at once.* She may be sorry 
that she can not go, but she will make no resistance. Those 
children only attempt to carry their points by noisy and 
violent demonstrations who find, by experience, that such 
measures are usually successful. A child, even, who has 
become once accustomed to them, will soon drop them if 
she finds, owing to a change in the system of management, 
that they now never succeed. And a child who never, from 
the beginning, finds any efficiency in them, never learns to 
employ them at all. 

Gonclusio7i. 

Of the three methods of managing children exemplified 
in this chapter, the last is the only one which can be fol- 
lowed either with comfort to the parent or safety to the 
child ; and to show how this method can be brought effect- 
ually into operation by gentle measures is the object of this 
book. It is, indeed, true that the importance of tact and 
skill in the training of the young, and of cultivating their 
reason, and securing their affection, can not be overrated. 
But the influences secured by these means form, at the 
best, but a sandy foundation for filial obedience to rest 
upon. The child is not to be made to comply with the re- 
quirements of his parents by being artfully inveigled into 
compliance, nor is his obedience to rest on his love for fa- 
ther and mother, and his unwillingness to displease them, 
nor on his conviction of the rightfulness and reasonable- 
ness of their commands, but on simple submission to au- 
thority — that absolute and almost unlimited authority 
which all parents are commissioned by God and nature to 
exercise over their offspring during the period while the 
offspring remain dependent upon their care. 

* See Frontispiece. 



16 GENTLE MEASURES. 



CHAPTER II. 
WHAT ARE GENTLE MEASURES? 

It being thus distinctly understood that the gentle meas- 
ures in the training of children herein recommended are 
not to be resorted to as a substitute for parental authority, 
but as the easiest and most effectual means of establishing 
and maintaining that authority in its most absolute form, 
we have now to consider what the nature of these gentle 
measures is, and by what characteristics they are distin- 
guished, in their action and influence, from such as may be 
considered more or less violent and harsh. 

Gentle measures are those which tend to exert a calming, 
quieting, and soothing influence on the mind, or to produce 
only such excitements as are pleasurable in their character, 
as means of repressing wrong and encouraging right ac- 
tion. Ungentle measures are those which tend to inflame 
and irritate the mind, or to agitate it with painful excite- 
ments. 

Three Degrees of Violence. 

There seem to be three grades or forms of violence to 
which a mother may resort in controlling her children, or, 
perhaps, rather three classes of measures which are more 
or less violent in their effects. To illustrate these we will 
take an example. 

Case supposed. 

One day Louisa, four years old, asked her mother for an 
apple. " Have you had any already ?" asked her mother. 



WHAT AKE GENTLE MEASURES? 17 

" Only one," replied Louisa. " Then Bridget may give you 
another," said the mother. 

What Louisa said was not true. She had already eaten 
two apples. Bridget heard the falsehood, but she did not 
consider it her duty to betray the child, so she said noth- 
ing. The mother, however, afterwards, in the course of the 
day, accidentally ascertained the truth. 

Now, as we have said, there are three grades in the kind 
and character of the measures which may be considered vi- 
olent that a mother may resort to in a case like this. 

Bodily Punishment. 

1. First, there is the infliction of bodily pain. The child 
may be whipped, or tied to the bed-post, and kept in a con- 
strained and uncomfortable position for a long time, or shut 
up in solitude and darkness, or punished by the infliction of 
bodily suffering in other ways. 

And there is no doubt that there is a tendency in such 
treatment to correct or cure the fault. But measures like 
these, whether successful or not, are certainly violent meas- 
ures. They shock the w^hole nervous system, sometimes 
w-ith the excitement of pain and terror, and always, prob- 
ably, with that of resentment and anger. In some cases 
this excitement is extreme. The excessively delicate or- 
ganization of the brain, through which such agitations 
reach the sensorium, and which, in children of an early age, 
is in its most tender and sensitive state of development, is 
subjected to a most intense and violent agitation. 

Evil Effects of Violence iti this Form. 

' The evil effects of this excessive cerebral action mayjoer- 
haps entirely pass away in a few hours, and leave no trace 
of injury behind ; but then, on the other hand, there is cer- 
tainly reason to fear that such commotions, especially if 



18 GENTLE MEASURES. 

often repeated, tend to impede the regular and healthful 
development of the organs, and that they may become the 
origin of derangements, or of actual disoi-ganizations, re- 
sulting very seriously in future years. It is impossible, 
perhaps, to know with certainty whether permanent ill ef- 
fects follow in such cases or not. At any rate, such a rem- 
edy is a violent one. 

The Frightening System. 

2. There is a second grade of violence in the treatment 
of such a case, which consists in exciting pain or terror, or 
other painful or disagreeable emotions, through the imagi- 
nation, by presenting to the fancy of the child images of 
phantoms, hobgoblins, and other frightful monsters, whose 
ire, it is pretended, is greatly excited by the misdeeds of 
children, and who come in the night-time to take them 
away, or otherwise visit them with terrible retribution. 
Domestic servants are very prone to adopt this mode of 
discipline. Being forbidden to resort to personal violence 
as a means of exciting pain and terror, they attempt to ac- 
complish the same end by other means, which, however, in 
many respects, are still more injurious in their action. 

Management of Nurses and Servants. 

Nurses and attendants upon children from certain nation- 
alities in Europe are peculiarly disposed to employ this 
method of governing children placed under their care. 
One reason is that they are accustomed to this mode of 
management at home; and another is that many of them 
are brought up under an idea, which prevails extensively 
in some of those countries, that it is right to tell falsehoods 
where the honest object is to accomplish a charitable or 
useful eiid. Accordingly, inasmuch as the restraining of 
the children from wrong is a good and useful object, they 



WHAT ARE GENTLE MEASURES? 19 

can declare the existence of giants and hobgoblins, to carry 
away and devour bad girls and boys, with an air of pos- 
itiveness and seeming honesty, and with a calm and persist- 
ent assurance, which aids them very much in producing on 
the minds of the children a conviction of the truth of what 
they say ; while, on the other hand, those who, in theory at 
least, occupy the position that the direct falsifying of one's 
word is 7iever justifiable, act at a disadvantage in attempt- 
ing this method. For although, in practice, they are often 
incHned to make an exception to their principles in regard 
to truth in the case of what is said to young children, they 
can not, after all, tell children what they know to be not 
true with that bold and confident air necessary to carry full 
conviction to the children's minds. They are embarrassed 
by a kind of half guilty feeling, which, partially at least, be- 
trays them, and the children do not really and fully believe 
what they say. They can not suppose that their mother 
would really tell them what she knew was false, and yet 
they can not help perceiving that she does not speak and 
look as if what she w^as saying was actually true. 

Monsieur and Madame Croquemitaine. 

In all countries there are many, among even the most 
refined and highly cultivated classes, who are not at all em- 
barrassed by any moral delicacy of this kind. This is espe- 
cially the case in those countries in Europe, particularly on 
the Continent, where the idea above referred to, of the al- 
lowableness of falsehood in certain cases as a means for 
the attainment of a good end, is generally entertained. 
The French have two terrible bugbears, under the names 
of Monsieur and Madame Croquemitaine, w^ho are as famil- 
iar to the imaginations of French children as Santa Claus 
is, in a much more agreeable way, to the juvenile fancy at 
our firesides. Monsieur and Madame Croquemitaine are 



20 GENTLE MEASURES. 

frightful monsters, who come down the chimney, or through 
the roof, at night, and carry off bad children. Tiiey learn 
from their little fingers — which whisper in their ears when 
they hold them near — who the bad children are, where they 
live, and what they have done. The instinctive faith of 
young children in their mother's truthfulness is so strong 
that no absurdity seems gross enough to overcome it. 

The Black Man and the Policeman. 

There are many mothers among us who — though not 
quite prepared to call in the aid of ghosts, giants, and hob- 
goblins, or of Monsieur and Madame Croquemitaine, in 
managing their children — still, sometimes, try to eke out 
their failing authority by threatening them with the " black 
man," or the " policeman," or some other less supernatural 
terror. They seem to imagine that inasmuch as, while there 
is no such thing in existence as a hobgoblin, there really 
are policemen and prisons, they only half tell an untruth by 
saying to the recalcitrant little one that a policeman is com- 
ing to carry him off to jail. 

InJL(7'ious Effects. 

Although, by these various modes of exciting imaginary 
fears, there is no direct and outward infliction of bodily 
suffering, the effect produced on the delicate organization 
of the brain by such excitements is violent in the extreme. 
The paroxysms of agitation and terror which they some- 
times excite, and which are often spontaneously renewed 
by darkness and solitude, and by other exciting causes, are 
of the nature of temporary insanity. Indeed, the extreme 
nervous excitability which they produce sometimes becomes 
a real insanity, which, though it may, in many cases, be 
finally outgrown, may probably in many others lead to last- 
ing and most deplorable results. 



WHAT AEE GENTLE MEASUMES? 21 

^^ Harsh Heproofs and Tlireatenings. 

3. There is a third mode of treatment, more common, 
perhaps, among '^ ^^'^i\ either of the preceding, which, 
though much milder in its character than they, we still 
class among the violent measures, on account of its opera- 
tion and effects. It consists of stern and harsh rebukes, 
denunciations of the heinousness of the sin of falsehood, 
with solemn premonitions of the awful consequences of it, 
in this life and in that to come, intended to awaken feelings 
of alarm and distress in the mind of the child, as a means 
of promoting repentance and reformation. These are not 
violent measures, it is true, so far as outward physical ac- 
tion is concerned; but the effects which tliey produce are 
sometimes of quite a violent nature, in their operation on 
the delicate nervous and mental susceptibilities which are 
excited and agitated by them. If the mother is successful 
in making the impression which such a mode of treatment 
is designed to produce, the child, especially if a girl, is agi- 
tated and distressed. Her nervous system is greatly dis- 
turbed. If calmed for a time, the paroxysm is very liable 
to return. She wakes in the night, perhaps, with an inde- 
finable feeling of anxiety and terror, and comes to hex- 
mother's bedside, to seek, in her presence, and in the sense 
of protection which it affords, a relief from her distress. 

The conscientious mother, supremely anxious to secure 
the best interests of her child, may say that, after all, it is 
better that she should endure this temporary suffering than 
not be saved from the sin. This is true. But if she can 
be saved just as effectually without it, it is better still. 

The Gentle Method of Treatment. 

4. We now come to the gentle measures which may be 
adopted in a case of discipline like this. They are endless- 



23 GENTLE 3IEASURES. 

ly varied in form, but, to illustrate the nature and operation 
of them, and the spirit and temper of mind with which they 
should be enforced, with a view of communicating to the 
mind of the reader some general ia^ ■.r the characteris- 
tics of that gentleness of treatment which it is the object 
of this work to commend, we will describe an actual case, 
substantially as it really occurred, where a child, whom w^e 
will still call Louisa, told her mother a falsehood about the 
apple, as already related. 

Choosing the Might Time. 

Her mother — though Louisa's manner, at the time of giv- 
ing her answer, led her to feel somewhat suspicious — did 
not express her suspicions, but gave her the additional ap- 
ple. Nor did she afterwards, when she ascertained the 
facts, say any thing on the subject. The day passed away 
as if nothing unusual had occurred. When bed-time came 
she undressed the child and laid her in her bed, playing 
with her, and talking with her in an amusing manner all 
the time, so as to bring her into a contented and happy 
frame of mind, and to establish as close a connection as 
possible of affection and sympathy between them. Then, 
finally, wdien the child's prayer had been said, and she was 
about to be left for the night, her mother, sitting in a chair 
at the head of her little bedj and putting her hand lovingly 
upon her, said : 

The Story. 

" But first I must tell you one more little story. 

*' Once there was a boy, and his name was Ernest. He 
was a pretty large boy, for he. was five years old." 

Louisa, it must be recollected, was only four. 

"He was a very pretty boy. He had bright blue eyes 
and curling hair. He was a very good boy, too. He did 



WBAT ABE GENTLE MEASTJBES? 23 

not like to do any thing wrong. He always found that it 
made him feel uncomfortable and unhappy afterwards when 
he did any thing wrong. A good many children, especially 
good children, find that it makes them feel uncomfortable 
and unhappy when they do wrong. Perhaps you do." 

" Yes, mamma, I do," said Louisa. 

" I am glad of that," replied her mother ; " that is a good 
sign." 

"Ernest went one day," added the mother, continuing her 
story, " with his little cousin Anna to their uncle's, in hopes 
that he would give them some apples. Their uncle had a 
beautiful garden, and in it there was an apple-tree which 
bore most excellent apples. They were large, and rosy, 
and mellow, and sweet. The cliildren liked the apples from 
that tree very much, and Ernest and Anna went that day 
in hopes that their uncle would give them some of them. 
He said he would. He would give them three apiece. He 
told them to go into the garden and wait there until he 
came. They must not take any apples off the tree, he said, 
but if they found any under the tree they might take them, 
provided that there were not more than three apiece ; and 
when he came he would take enough off the tree, he said, 
to make up the number to three. 

" So the children went into the garden and looked un- 
der the tree. They found tim apples there, and they took 
them up and ate them — one apiece. Then they sat down 
and began to wait for their uncle to come. While they 
were waiting Anna proposed that they should not tell their 
uncle that they had found the two apples, and so he would 
give them three more, which he would take from the tree ; 
whereas, if he knew that they had already had one apiece, 
then he would only give them two more. Ernest said that 
his uncle would ask them about it. Anna said, ' No mat 
ter, we can tell him that we did not find any.' 



24 GENTLE MEASURES. 

" Ernest seemed to be thinking about it for a moment, 
and then, shaking his head, said, * No, I think we had better 
not tell liim a lie !' 

" So when he saw their uncle coming he said, ' Come, 
Anna, let us go and tell him about it, just how it was. So 
they ran together to meet their uncle, and told him that 
they had found two apples under the tree, one apiece, and 
had eaten them. Then he gave them two more apiece, ;ic- 
cording to his promise, and they went home feeling con- 
tented and happy. 

"They might have had one more apple apiece, probably, 
by combining together to tell a falsehood ; but in that case 
they would have gone home feeling guilty and unhappy." 

The Effect. 

Louisa's motlier paused a moment, after finishing her 
story, to give Louisa time to think about it a little. 

" I think," she added at length, after a suitable pause, 
" that it was a great deal better for them to tell the truth, 
as they did." 

" I think so too, mamma," said Louisa, at the same time 
casting down her eyes and looking a little confused. 

" But you know," added her mother, speaking in a very 
kind and gentle tone, " that you did not tell me the truth 
to-day about the apple that Bridget gave you." 

Louisa paused a moment, looked in her mother's face, 
and then, reaching up to put her arms around her mother's 
neck, slie said, 

" Mamma, I am determined never to tell you another 
wrong story as long as I live." 

Only a Single Lesson, after all. 
Now it is not at all probable that if the case had ended 
here, Louisa would have kept her promise. This was one 



WITAT ARE GENTLE MEASURES 25 

good lesson, it is true, but it was only one. And the lesson 
was given by a method so gentle, that no nervous, cerebral, 
or mental function was in any degree irritated or moi'bidly 
excited by it. Moreover, no one who knows any thing of 
the Avorkings of the infantile mind can doubt that the im- 
pulse in the right direction given by this conversation was 
not only better in character, but was greater in amount, 
than could have been effected by either of the other meth- 
ods of management previously described. 

IIovj Gentle Measures operate. 

By the gentle measures, then, which are to be liere dis- 
cussed and recommended, are meant such as do not react 
in a violent and irritating manner, in any way, upon the 
extremely delicate, and almost embryonic condition of the 
cerebral and nervous organization, in which the gradual de- 
velopment of the mental and moral faculties are so inti- 
mately involved. They do not imply any, the least, relaxa- 
tion of the force of parental authority, or any lowering 
whatever of the standards of moral obligation, but are, on 
the contrary, the most effectual, the surest and the sufcs>. 
way of establishing the one and of enforcing the other- 

B 



26 GENTLE MEASURES. 



CHAPTER III. 
THERE MUST BE AUTHORITY. 

The first duty wliich devolves upon the mother in the 
training of lier child is the establishment of her authority 
over him — that is, the forming in him the habit of immedi- 
ate, implicit, and unquestioning obedience to all her com- 
mands. And the first step to be taken, or, rather, perhaps 
the first essential condition required for the performance of 
this duty, is the fixing of the conviction in her own mind 
that it is a duty. 

Unfortunately, however, there are not only vast numbers 
of mothers who do not in any degree perform this duty, but 
a large proportion of them have not even a theoretical idea 
of the obligation of it. 

A7i Objection. 

" I wish my child to be governed by reason and reflec- 
tion," says one. " I wish him to see the necessity and pro- 
priety of what I require of him, so that he may render a 
ready and willing compliance with my wishes, instead of 
being obliged blindly to submit to arbitrary and despotic 
power." 

She forgets that the faculties of reason and reflection, 
and the power of appreciating " the necessity and propriety 
of things," and of bringing considerations of future, remote, 
and perhaps contingent good and evil to restrain and sub- 
due the impetuousness of appetites and passions eager for 
present pleasure, are qualities that appear late, and are very 
slowly developed, in the infantile mind ; that no real reli- 



THERE MUST BE AUTHOMITY. 27 

ance whatever can be placed upon them in the early years 
of life ; and that, moreover, one of the chief and expressly 
intended objects of the establishment of the parental rela- 
tion is to provide, in the mature reason and reflection of the 
father and mother, the means of guidance which the em- 
bryo reason and reflection of the child could not afford 
during the period of his immaturity. 

The two great Elements of Parental Obligation, 

Indeed, the chief end and aim of the parental relation, as 
designed by the Author of nature, may be considered as 
comprised, it would seem, in these two objects, namely: 
first, the support of the child by the strength of his parents 
during the period necessary for the development of his 
strength, and, secondly, his guidance and direction by their 
reason during the development of his reason. The second 
of these obligations is no less imperious than the first. To 
expect him to provide the means of his support from the 
resources of his own embryo strength, would imply no 
greater misapprehension on the part of his father and 
mother than to look for the exercise of any really control- 
ling influence over his conduct by his embryo reason. The 
expectation in the two cases would be equally vain. The 
only difference would be that, in the failure which would 
inevitably result from the trial, it would be in the one case 
the body that would suffer, and in the other the soul. 

The Judgment more slowly developed than the Strength. 

Indeed, the necessity that the conduct of the child should 
be controlled by the reason of the parents is in one point 
of view greater, or at least more protracted, than that his 
wants should be supplied by their power ; for the develojv 
ment of the thinking and reasoning powers is late and slow 
in comparison with the advancement toward maturity of 



28 GENTLE MEASURES. 

the physical powers. It is considered that a boy attains, in 
this country, to a sufficient degree of strength at the age 
of from seven to ten years to earn his Uving; but his rea- 
son is not sufficiently mature to make it safe to intrust him 
with the care of hiuiself and of his affairs, in the judgment 
of the law, till he is of more than twice that age. The par- 
ents can actually thus sooner look to the strength of the 
child for his support than they can to his reason for his 
guidance. 

What Parents have to do in Respect to the Reasoning 
Rowers of Children. 

To aid in the development and cultivation of the think- 
ing and reasoning powers is doubtless a very important 
part of a parent's duty. But to cultivate these faculties is 
one thing, while to make any control which may be pro- 
cured for them over the mind of the child the basis of gov- 
ernment, is another. To explain the reasons of our com- 
mands is excellent, if it is done in the right time and man- 
ner. The wrong time is when the question of obedience is 
pending, and the wrong manner is when they are offered as 
inducements to obey. We may offer reasons for recom- 
mendations, when we leave the child to judge of their 
force, and to act according to our recommendations or not, 
as his judgment shall dictate. But reasons should never 
be given as inducements to obey a command. The more 
completely the obedience to a command rests on the prin- 
ciple of simple submission to authority, the easier and bet- 
ter it will be both for parent and child. 

Planner of exercising Authority. 

Let no reader fail into the error of supposing that the 
mother's making her authority the basis of her government 
renders it necessarv for her to assume a stern and severe 



THEME MUST BE AUTHORITY. 29 

aspect towards her children, in her intercourse with them ; 
or to issue her commands in a harsh, abrupt, and imperious 
manner ; or always to refrain from explaining, at the time, 
the reasons for a command or a prohibition. The more 
gentle the manner, and the more kind and courteous the 
tones in which the mother's wishes are expressed, the bet- 
ter, provided only that the wishes, however expressed, are 
really the mandates of an authority which is to be yielded 
to at once without question or delay. She may say, "Mary, 
will you please to leave your doll and take this letter for 
me into the library to your father?" or, "Johnny, in five 
miimtes it will be time for you to put your blocks away to 
go to bed ; I will tell you when the time is out ;" or, " James, 
look at the clock " — to call his attention to the fact that the 
time is arrived for him to go to school. No matter, in, a 
word, under how mild and gentle a form the mother's com- 
mands are given, provided only that the children are trained 
to understand that they are at once to be obeyed. 

A second Objection. 

Another large class of mothers are deterred from making 
any efficient effort to establish their authority over their 
children for fear of thereby alienating their affections. " I 
wish my child to love me," says a mother of this class. 
" That is the supreme and never-ceasing wish of my heart ; 
and if I am continually thwarting and constraining her by 
my authority, she will soon learn to consider me an obstacle 
to her happiness, and I shall become an object of her aver- 
sion and dislike." 

There is some truth, no doubt, in this statement thus ex- 
pressed, but it is not applicable to the case, for the reason 
that there is no need whatever for a mother's " continually 
thwarting and constraining " her children in her efforts to 
establish her authority over them. The love which they 



30 GENTLE MEASURES. 

will feel for her will depend in a great measure upon the 
degree in which she sympathizes and takes part with them 
in their occupations, their enjoyments, their disappoint- 
ments, and tlieir sorrows, and in which she indulges their 
child-like desires. The love, however, awakened by these 
means will be not weakened nor endangered, but immense- 
ly strengthened and confirmed, by the exercise on her part 
of a just and equable, but firm and absolute, authority. 
This must always be true so long as a feeling of respect 
for the object of affection tends to strengthen, and not to 
weaken, the sentiment of love. The mother who does not 
govern her children is bringing them up not to love her, 
but to despise her. 

Effect of Authority. 

If, besides being their playmate, their companion, and 
friend, indulgent in respect to all their harmless fancies, 
and patient and forbearing with their childish faults and 
foolishness, she also exercises in cases requiring it an au- 
thority over them which, though just and gentle, is yet ab- 
solute and supreme, she rises to a very exalted position in 
their view. Their affection for her has infused into it an 
element which greatly aggrandizes and ennobles it — an ele- 
ment somewhat analogous to that sentiment of lofty devo- 
tion which a loyal subject feels for his queen. 

Effect of the Want of Authority. 

On the her hand, if she is inconsiderate enough to at- 
tempt to win a place in her children's hearts by the sacrifice 
of her maternal authority, she will never succeed in securing 
a place there that is Avorth possessing. The children will 
all, girls and boys alike, see and understand her weakness, 
and they will soon learn to look down upon her, instead of 
looking up to her, as they ought. As they grow older they 



THERE MUST BE A UTUOIilTT. 31 

will all become more and more unmanageable. The insub 
ordination of the girls must generally be endured, but that 
of the boys will in time grow to be intolerable, and it will 
become necessary to send them away to school, or to adopt 
some other plan for ridding the house of their turbulence, 
and relieving the poor mother's heart of the insupportable 
burden she has to bear in finding herself contemned and 
trampled upon by her own children. In the earlier years 
of life the feeling entertained for' their mother in such a 
case by the children is simply that of contempt; for the 
sentiment of gratitude which will modify it in time is very 
late to be developed, and has not yet begun to act. In later 
years, however, when the boys have become young men, 
this sentiment of gratitude begins to come in, but it only 
changes the contempt into pity. And when years ha«,e 
passed away, and the mother is perhaps in her grave, her 
sons think of her with a mingled feeling excited by the 
conjoined remembrance of her helpless imbecility and of 
her true maternal love, and say to each other, with a smile, 
" Poor dear mother ! what a time she had of it trying to 
govern us boys !" 

If a mother is willing to have her children thus regard 
her with contempt pure and simple while they are children, 
and with contempt transformed into pity by the infusion 
of a tardy sentiment of gratitude, when they are grown, she 
may try the plan of endeavoring to secure their love by in^ 
dulging them without governing them. But if she sets 
her heart on being the object through life of their respect- 
ful love, she may indulge them as much as she pleases ; but 
she must govern them. 

Indulgence. 
A great deal is said sometimes about the evils of indul- 
gence in the management of children; and so far as the 



32 GENTLE MEASUEES. 

condemnation refers only to indulgence in what is injurious 
or evil, it is doubtless very just. But the harm is not in 
the indulgence itself — that is, in the act of affording gratifi- 
cation to the child — but in the injurious or dangerous na- 
ture of the things indulged in. It seems to me that children 
are not generally indulged enough. They are thwarted and 
restrained in respect to the gratification of their harmless 
Avishes a great deal too much. Indeed, as a general rule, 
the more that children are gratified in respect to their child- 
ish fancies and impulses, and even their caprices, when no 
evil or danger is to be apprehended, the better. 

When, therefore, a child asks, "May I do this?" or, "May 
I do that ?" the question for the mother to consider is not 
whether the thing proposed is a wise or a foolish thing to 
do — that is, whether it would be wise or foolish for her, if 
she, with her ideas and feelings, were in the place of the 
child — but only whether there is any harm or danger in it; 
and if not, she should give her ready and cordial consent. 

Afitagonism between Free Indulgence and Absolute '■ 

Control. 

There is no necessary antagonism, nor even any incon- 
sistency, between the freest indulgence of children and the 
maintenance of the most absolute authority over them. In- 
deed, the authority can be most easily established in con- 
nection with great liberality of indulgence. At any rate, 
it will be very evident, on reflection, that the two principles 
do not stand at all in opposition to each other, as is often 
vaguely supposed. Children may be greatly indulged, and 
yet perfectly governed. On the other hand, they may be 
continually checked and thwarted, and their lives made mis- 
erable by a continued succession of vexations, restrictions, 
and refusals, and yet not be governed at all. An example 
will, however, best illustrate this. 



THERE MUST BE AUTHORITY. 33 

Mode of Management with Louisa. 

A mother, going to the village by a path across the fields, 
proposed to her little daughter Louisa to go with her for 
a walk. 

Louisa asked if she might invite her Cousin Mary to go 
too. " Yes," said her mother ; " I thi7ik she is not at home ; 
but you can go and see, if you like." 

Louisa went to see, and returned in a few minutes, say- 
ing that Mary was not at home. 

" Never mind," replied her mother ; " it was polite in you 
to wish to invite her." 

They set out upon the walk. Louisa runs hither and 
thither over the grass, returning continually to her mother 
to bring her flowers and curiosities. Her mother looks at 
them all, seems to approve of, and to sympathize in, Louisa's 
w^onder and delight, and even points out new charms in the 
objects which she brings to her, that Louisa had not ob- 
served. 

At length Louisa spied a butterfly. 

"Mother," said she, " here's a butterfly. May I run and 
catch him ?" 

" You may try," said her mother. 

Louisa ran till she was tired, and then came back to her 
mother, looking a little disappointed. 

" I could not catch him, mother." 

" Never mind," said her mother, " you had a good time 
trying, at any rate. Perhaps you will see another by-and- 
by. You may possibly see a bird, and you can try and see 
if you can catch Aim." 

So Louisa ran off to play again, satisfied and hapj^y. 

A little farther on a pretty tree w^as growing, not far 
from the path on one side. A short, half-decayed log 
lay at the foot of the tree, overtopped and nearly con- 

B2 



34 GENTLE 3IEASUEES. 

cealed by a growth of raspberry-bushes, grass, and wild 
flowers. 

" Louisa," said the mother, " do you see that tree with 
the pretty flowers at the foot of it?" 

" Yes, mother." 

" I would rather not have you go near that tree. Come 
over to this side of the path, and keep on this side till you 
get by." 

Louisa began immediately to obey, but as she was cross- 
ing the path she looked up to her mother and asked why 
she must not go near the tree. 

"I am glad you would like to know why," replied her 
mother, " and I will tell you the reason as soon as we get 
past." 

Louisa kept on the other side of the path until the tree 
was left well behind, and then came back to her mother to 
ask for the promised reason. 

" It was because I heard that there was a wasp's nest 
under that tree," said her mother. 

"A wasp's nest !" repeated Louisa, with a look of alarm. 

" Yes," rejoined her mother, " and I was afraid that the 
wasps might sting you." 

Louisa paused a moment, and then, looking back towards 
the tree, said, 

" I am glad I did not go near it." 

"And I am glad that you obeyed me so readily," said 
her mother. " I knew you would obey me at once, with- 
out my giving any reason. I did not wish to tell you the 
reason, for fear of frightening you while you were passing 
by the tree. But I knew that you would obey me without 
any reason. You always do, and that is why I always like 
to have you go with me when I take a walk." 

Louisa is much gratified by this commendation, and the 
effect of it, and of the whole incident, in confirming and 



THERE MUST BE AUTHORITY. 37 

strengthening the principle of obedience in her heart, is 
very much greater than rebukes or punishments for any 
overt act of disobedience could possibly be. 

" But, mother," asked Louisa, " how did you know that 
there Avas a wasp's nest under that tree ?" 

" One of the boys told me so," replied her mother. 

" And do you really think there is one there ?" asked 
Louisa. 

" Xo," replied her mother, " I do not really think there 
is. Boys are very apt to imagine such things.'"' 

" Then why would you not let me go there ?" asked 
Louisa. 

"Because there might he one there, and so 1 thought it 
safer foi you not to go near." 

Louisa now left her mother's side and resumed her ex- 
cursions, running this way and that, in every direction, over 
the fields, until at length, her strength beginning to fail, she 
came back to her mother, out of breath, and with a languid 
air, saying that she was too tired to go any farther. 

" I am tired, too," said her mother ; " we had better find 
a place to sit down to rest." 

" Where shall we find one ?" asked Louisa. 

"I see a large stone out there before us a little way," 
said her mother. " How will that do ?" 

"I mean to go and try it," said Louisa; and, having 
seemingly recovered her breath, she ran forward to try the 
stone. By the time that her mother reached the spot she 
was ready to go on. 

These and similar incidents marked the whole progress 
of the walk. 

We see that in such a case as this firm government and 
free indulgence are conjoined ; and that, far from there 
being any antagonism between them, they may work to- 
gether in perfect harmony. 



38 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Mode of Ma7iag orient with Hannah. 

On the other hand, there may be an extreme limitation 
in respect to a mother's indulgence of her children, while 
yet she has no government over them at all. We shall see 
how this might be by the case of little Hannah. 

Hannah was asked by her mother to go with her across 
the fields to the village under circumstances similar to those 
of Louisa's invitation, except that the real motive of Han- 
nah's mother, in proposing that Hannah should accompany 
her, was to have the child's help in bringing home her par- 
cels. 

" Yes, mother," said Hannah, in reply to her mother's in- 
vitation, " I should like to go ; and I will go and ask Cousin 
Sarah to go too." 

"Oh no," rejoined her mother, "why do you wish Sarah 
to go ? She will only be a trouble to us." 

" She won't be any trouble at all, mother, and I mean to 
go and ask her," said Hannah ; and, putting on her bonnet, 
she set oft' towards the gate. 

" No, Hannah," insisted her mother, " you must not go. 
I don't wish to have Sarah go with us to-day." 

Hannah paid no attention to this prohibition, but ran off 
to find Sarah. After a few minutes she returned, saying 
that Sarah was not at home. 

" I am glad of it," said her mother ; " I told you not to 
go to ask her, and you did very wrong to disobey me. I 
have a great mind not to let you go yourself." 

Hannah ran oft in the direction of the path, not caring 
for the censure or for the threat, knowing well that they 
would result in nothing. 

Her mother followed. When they reached the pastures 
Hannah began running here and there over the grass. 

"Hannah !" said her motlier, speaking in a stern and re« 



THERE MUST BE AUTHORITY. 39 

proachfnl tone; "what do you keep running about so for 
all the time, Hannah ? You'll get tired out before we get 
to the village, and then you'll be teasing me to let you stop 
and rest. Come and walk along quietly with me." 

But Hannah paid no attention whatever to this injunc- 
tion. She ran to and fro among the rocks and clumps of 
bushes, and once or twice she brought to her mother flowers 
or other curious things that she found. 

" Those things are not good for any thing, child," said 
her mother. "They are nothing but common weeds and 
trash. Besides, I told you not to run about so much. 
Why can't you come and walk quietly along the path, like 
a sensible person ?" 

Hannah paid no attention to this reiteration of her moth- 
er's command, but continued to run about as before. 

"Hannah," repeated her mother, "come back into the 
path. I have told you again and again that you must 
come and walk with me, and you don't pay the least heed 
to what I say. By-and-by you will fall into some hole, or 
tear your clothes against the bushes, or get pricked with 
the briers. You must not, at any rate, go a step farther 
from the path than you are now." 

Hannah walked on, looking for flowers and curiosities, 
and receding farther and farther from the path, for a time, 
and then returning towards it again, according to her own 
fancy or caprice, without paying any regard to her mother's 
directions. 

"Hannah," said her mother, "you must not go so far 
away from the path. Then, besides, you are coming to a 
tree where there is a wasps' nest. You must not go near 
that tree ; if yon do, you will get stung." 

Hannah went on, looking for flowers, and gradually draw- 
ing nearer to the tree. 

" Hannah !" exclaimed her mother, " I tell you that you 



40 GENTLE MEASURES. 

must not go near that tree. You will certainly gel 
stung." 

Hannah went on — somewhat hesitatingly and cautiously, 
]t is true — towards the foot of the tree, and, seeing no signs 
of wasps there, she began gathering the flowers that grew 
at the foot of it. 

" Hannah ! Hannah !" exclaimed her mother ; " I told you 
not to go near that tree ! Get your flowers quick, if you 
must get them, and come away." 

Hannah went on gathering the flowers at her leisure. 

" You will certamly get stung," said her mother. 

" I don't believe there is any hornets' nest here," replied 
Hannah. 

" Wasps' nest," said her mother ; " it was a wasps' nest." 

" Or wasps' nest either," said Hannah. 

" Yes," rejoined her mother, " the boys said there was." 

" That's nothing," said Hannah ; " the boys think there 
are wasps' nests in a great many places where there are not 
any." - 

After a time Hannah, having gathered all the flowers she 
wished for, came back at her leisure towards her mother. 

" I told you not to go to that tree," said her mother, re- 
proachfully. 

"You told me I should certainly get stung if I went 
there," rejoined Hannah, " and I didn't." 

" Well, you might have got stung," said her mother, and 
so walked on. 

Pretty soon after this Hannah said that she was tired of 
walking so far, and wished to stop and rest. 

" No," replied her mother, " I told you that you w^ould 
get tired if you ran about so much ; but you would do it, 
and so now I shall not stop for you at all." 

Hannah said that she should stop, at any rate ; so she sat 
down upon a log by the way-side. Her mother said that 



THERE JIUST BE AUTHORITY. 41 

she should go on and leave her. So her mother walked on, 
looking back now and then, and calling Hannah to come. 
But finding that Hannah did not come, she finally found a 
place to sit down herself and wait for her. 

The Principle illustrated by this Case. 

Many a mother will see the image of her own manage- 
ment of her children reflected without exaggeration or dis- 
tortion in this glass ; and, as the former story shows how 
the freest indulgence is compatible with the maintenance 
of the most absolute authority, this enables us to see how a 
perpetual resistance to the impulses and desires of children 
may co-exist w^ith no government over them at all. 

Let no mother fear, then, that the measures necessary to 
establish for her the most absolute authority over her chil- 
dren w^ill at all curtail her power to promote their happi- 
ness. The maintenance of the best possible government 
over them will not in any way prevent her yielding to them 
all the harmless gratifications they may desire. She may 
indulge them in all their childish impulses, fancies, and even 
caprices, to their heart's content, without at all weakening 
her authority over them. Indeed, she may make these very 
indulgences the means of strengthening her authority. But 
without the authority she can never develop in the hearts 
of her children the only kind of love that is worth possess- 
ing — namely, that in which the feeling of affection is digni- 
fied and ennobled by the sentiment of respect. 

One more Consideration. 
There is one consideration which, if properly appreciated, 
would have an overpowering influence on the mind of ev- 
ery mother in inducing her to establish and maintain a firm 
authority over her child during the early years of his life, 
and that is the possibility that he may not live to reach 



43 GENTLE MEASURES. 

maturity. Should the terrible calamity befall her of being 
compelled to follow her boy, yet young, to his grave, the 
character of her grief, and the degree of distress and an- 
guish which it w^ill occasion her, w^ill depend very much 
upon the memories which his life and his relations to her 
have left in her soul. When she returns to her home, 
bowed down by the terrible burden of her bereavement, 
and w^anders over the now desolated rooms which were 
the scenes of his infantile occupations and joys, and sees 
the now useless playthings and books, and the various ob- 
jects of curiosity and interest with which he was so often 
and so busily engaged, there can, of course, be nothing 
which can really assuage her overwhelming grief; but it 
will make a vital difference in the character of this grief, 
whether the image of her boy, as it takes its fixed and 
final position in her memory and in her heart, is associated 
with recollections of docility, respectful regard for his moth- 
er's wishes, and of ready and unquestioning submission to 
her authority and obedience to her commands ; or w^hether, 
on the other hand, the picture of his past life, which is to 
remam forever in her heart, is to be distorted and marred 
by memories of outbreaks, acts of ungovernable impulse 
and insubordination, habitual disregard of all authority, and 
disrespectful, if not contemptuous, treatment of his mother. 
There is a sweetness as w^ell as a bitterness of grief; and 
something like a feeling of joy and gladness will spring up 
in the mother's heart, and mingle with and soothe her sor- 
row, if she can think of her boy, when he is gone, as al- 
ways docile, tractable, submissive to her authority, and obe- 
dient to her commands. Such recollections, it is true, can 
not avail to remove her grief — perhaps not even to dimin- 
ish its intensity; but they will greatly assuage the bitter- 
ness of it, and wholly take away its sting. 



QENTLE PUNISHMENT OF DISOBEDIENCE. 43 



CHAPTER lY. 

GENTLE PUNISHMENT OF DISOBEDIENCE. 

Children have no natural instinct of obedience to their 
parents, though they have other instincts by means of 
which the habit of obedience, as an acquisition, can easily 
be formed. 

The true state of the case is well illustrated by what we 
observe among the lower animals. The hen can call her 
chickens w^hen she has food for them, or when any danger 
threatens, and they come to her. They come, however, 
simply under the impulse of a desire for food or fear of 
danger, not from any instinctive desire to conform their 
action to their mother's will ; or, in other words, with no 
idea of submission to parental authority. It is so, substan- 
tially, with many other animals whose habits in respect to 
the relation between parents and offspring come under hu- 
man observation. The colt and the calf follow and keep 
near the mother, not from any instinct of desire to con- 
form their conduct to her will, but solely from love of 
food, or fear of danger. These last are strictly instinctive. 
They act spontaneously, and require no training of any 
sort to establish or to maintain them. 

The case is substantially the same with children. Tliey 
run to their mother by instinct, when want, fear, or pain 
impels them. They require no teaching or training for 
this. But for them to come simply because their mother 
wishes them to come — to be controlled, in other words, by 
her will, instead of by their own impulses, is a different 
thing altogether. They have no instinct for that. They 
have only a capacity for its development. 



44 GENTLE MEASURE 

Instincts and Capacities. 

It may, perhaps, be maintained that there is no real dit 
ference between instincts and capacities, and it certainly is 
possible that they may pass into each other by insensible 
gradations. Still, practically, and in reference to our treat- 
ment of any intelligent nature which is in course of gradual 
development under our influence, the difference is wide. 
The dog has an instinct impelling him to attach himself to 
and follow his master; but he has no instinct leading him 
to draw his master's cart. He requires no teaching for 
the one. It comes, of course, from the connate impulses of 
his nature. For the other he requires a skillful and care- 
ful training. If we find a dog who evinces no disposition 
to seek the society of man, but roams off into woods and 
solitudes alone, he is useless, and we attribute the fault to 
his own woliish nature. But if he will not fetch and cany 
at command, or bring home a basket in his mouth from 
market, the fault, if there be any fault, is in his master, in 
not having taken the proper time and pains to train him, 
or in not knowing how to do it. He has an instinct lead- 
ing him to attach himself to a human master, and to follow 
his master Avherever he goes. But he has no instinct lead- 
ing him to fetch and carry, or to draw carts for any body. 
If he shows no affection for man, it is his own fault — that is, 
the fault of his nature. But if he does not fetch and carry 
well, or go out of the room when he is ordered out, or draw 
steadily in a cart, it is his teacher's fault. He has not been 
properly trained. 

Who is Responsible f 

So with the child. If he does not seem to know how to 
take his food, or shows no disposition to run to his mother 
V\^hen he is hurt or when he is frightened, we have reason 



GENTLE PUmSH3IENT OF DISOBEDIENCE, 45 

to suspect something wrong, or, at least, something abnor- 
mal, in his mental or physical constitution. But if he does 
not obey his mother's commands — no matter how insubor- 
dinate or unmanageable he may be — the fault does not, cer- 
tainly, indicate any thing at all wrong in him. The fault is 
in his training. In witnessing his disobedience, our reflec- 
tion should be, not " What a bad boy !" but " What an nn- 
faithful or incompetent mother !" 

I have dwelt the longer on this point because it is funda- 
mental As long as a mother imagines, as so many mothers 
seem to do, that obedience on the part of the child is, or 
ought to be, a matter of course, she will never properly un- 
dertake the work of training him. But when she thor- 
oughly understands and feels that her children are not to 
be expected to submit their will to hers, except so far as 
she forms in them the habit of doing this by S2:>ecial train- 
ing, the battle is half won. 

Actual Instincts of Children. 

The natural instinct which impels her children to come at 
once to her for refuge and protection in all their troubles 
and fears, is a great source of happiness to every mother. 
This instinct shows itself in a thousand ways. "A mother, 
one morning" — I quote the anecdote from a newspaper* 
which came to hand while I was writing this chapter — 
"gave her two little ones books and toys to amuse them, 
while she went to attend to some work in an upper room. 
Half an hour passed quietly, and then a timid voice at the 
foot of the stairs called out : 

" * Mamma, are you there ?' 

" * Yes, darling.' 

" * All right, then !' and the child went back io its play 



* The "Boston ConsTegationalist." 



46 GENTLE MEASURES. 

" By-and-by the little voice was heard again, repeating, 

" ' Mamma, are you there ?' 

" ' Yes.' 

" * All right, then ;' and the little ones returned again, 
satisfied and reassured, to their toys." 

The sense of their mother's presence, or at least the cer- 
tainty of her being near at hand, was necessary to their se- 
curity and contentment in their plays. But this feeling 
was not the result of any teachings that they had re- 
ceived from their mother, or upon her having inculcated 
upon their minds in any way the necessity of their keeping 
always within reach of maternal protection ; nor had it 
been acquired by their own observation or experience of 
dangers or difficulties which had befallen them when too 
far away. It was a native instinct of the soul — the same 
that leads the lamb and the calf to keep close to their 
mother's side, and causes the unweaned babe to cling to its 
mother's bosom, and to shrink from being put away into 
the crib or cradle alone. 

The Ites2)onsihiUty rests upon the Mother. 
The mother is thus to understand that the principle of 
obedience is not to be expected to come by nature into the 
heart of her child, but to be implanted by education. She 
must understand this so fully as to feel that if she finds 
that her children are disobedient to her commands — leav- 
ing out of view cases of peculiar and extraordinary tempta- 
tion — it is her fault, not theirs. Perhaps I ought not to 
say hnY fault exactly, for she may have done as well as she 
knows how ; but, at any rate, her failure. Instead, there- 
fore, of being angry with thera, or fretting and complain- 
ing about the trouble they give her, she should leave them, 
as it were, out of the case, and turn her thoughts to herself, 
and to her own management, with a view to the discovery 



GENTLE PUNISHMENT OF DISOBEDIENCE. 47 

and the correcting of her own derelictions and errors. In 
a word, she must set regularly and systematically about the 
work of teaching her children to subject their w411 to hers. 

Three Methods. 

I shall give three principles of management, or rather 
three^different classes of measures, by means ^^ .rliich chil- 
dren may certainly be made obedient. The most perfect 
success will be attained by employing them all. But they 
require very different degrees of skill and tact on the part 
of the mother. The first requires very little skill. It de- 
mands only steadiness, calmness, and perseverance. The 
second draws much more upon the mother's mental resour- 
ces, and the last, most of all. Indeed, as will presently be 
seen, there is no limit to the amount of tact and ingenuity, 
not to say genius, wdiich may be advantageously exercised 
in the last method. The first is the most essential; and 
it will alone, if faithfully carried out, accomplish the end. 
The second, if the mother has the tact and skill to carry it 
into effect, will aid very much in accomplishing the result, 
and in a manner altogether more agreeable to both parties. 
The third will make the work of forming the habit of obe- 
dience on the part of the mother, and of acquiring it on 
the part of the child, a source of the highest enjoyment to 
both. But then, unfortunately, it requires more skill and 
dexterity, more gentleness of touch, so to speak, and a more 
celicate constitution of soul, than most mothers can be ex- 
pected to possess. .. 

But let us see what the three methods are. 

First Method. 

1. The first principle is that the mother should so regu- 
late her management of her child, that he should never gain 
any desired end by any act of insubmission, but always in- 



48 GENTLE MEASURES. 

cur some small trouble, inconvenience, or privation, by dis- 
obeying or neglecting to obey his mother's command. 
The important words in this statement of the principle are 
never and always. It is the absolute certainty that disobe- 
dience will hurt him, and not help him, in w^hich the whole 
efficacy of the rule consists. 

It is vo.;, -surprising how small a punishment will prove 
efficacious if it is only certain to follow the transgression. 
You may set apart a certain place for a prison — a corner 
of the sofa, a certain ottoman, a chair, a stool, any thing will 
answer; and the more entirely every thing like an air of 
displeasure or severity is excluded, in the manner of mak- 
ing the preliminary arrangements, the better. A mother 
without any tact, or any proper understanding of the way 
in which the hearts and minds of young children are influ- 
enced, will begin, very likely, with a scolding. 

" Children, you are getting very disobedient. I have to 
speak three or four times before you move to do what I 
say. Now, I am going to have a prison. The prison is to 
be that dark closet, and I am going to shut you up in it for 
half an hour every time you disobey. Now, remember ! 
The very next time !" 

Empty Threatening. 

Mothers who govern by threatening seldom do any thing 
but threaten. Accordingly, the first time the children dis- 
obey her, after such an announcement, she says nothing, if 
the case haiipens to be one in which the disobedience occa- 
sions her no particular trouble. The next time, when the 
transgression is a little more serious, she thinks, very right- 
ly perhaps, that to be shut up half an hour in a dark closet 
would be a disproportionate punishment. Then, ^\ hen at 
length some very willful and grave act of insubordination 
occurs, she happens to be in particularly good-humor, for 



GENTLE PUNISHMENT OF DISOBEDIENCE. 49 

some reason, and has not the heart to shut "the poor 
thing" in the closet; or, perhaps, there is company pres- 
ent, and she does not wish to make a scene. So the pen- 
alty announced with so much emphasis turns out to be a 
dead letter, as the children knew it would from the begin- 



How Discipline may he both Gentle and JEfficient. 

AVith a little dexterity and tact on the mother's part, the 
case may be managed very differently, and with a very dif- 
ferent result. Let us suppose that some day, while she is 
engaged with her sewing or her other household duties, and 
her children are playing around her, she tells them that in 
some great schools in Europe, when the boys are disobe- 
dient, or violate the rules, they are shut up for punishment 
in a kind of prison ; and perhaps she entertains them with 
invented examples of boys that would not go to prison, and 
had to be taken there by force, and kept there longer on 
account of their contumacy ; and also of other noble boys, 
tall and handsome, and the best players on the grounds, 
w^ho went readily when they had done wrong and were or- 
dered into confinement, and bore their punishment like men, 
and who w^ere accordingly set free all the sooner on that 
account. Then she proposes to them the idea of adopting 
that plan herself, and asks them to look all about the room 
and find a good seat which they can have for their prison 
— one end of the sofa, perhaps, a stool in a corner, or a 
box used as a house for a kitten. I once knew^an instance 
where a step before a door leading to a staircase served as 
penitentiary, and sitting upon it for a minute or less Avas 
the severest punishment required to maintain most perfect 
discipline in a family of young children for a long time. 

When any one of the children violated any rule or direc- 
tion which had been enjoined upon them — as, for example, 

C 



50 GENTLE MEASURES. 

when they left the door open in coming in or going out, in 
the winter ; or interrupted their mother when she was read- 
ing, instead of standing quietly by her side and waiting un- 
til she looked up from her book and gave them leave to 
speak to her; or used any violence towards each other, by 
pushing, or pulling, or struggling for a plaything or a place ; 
or did not come promptly to her when called ; or did not 
obey at once the first command in any case, the mother 
would say simply, " Mary !" or " James ! Prison !" She 
would pronounce this sentence without any appearance of 
displeasure, and often with a smile, as if they were only 
playing prison, and then, in a very few minutes after they 
had taken the penitential seat, she would say Free I which 
word set them at liberty again. 

Must begin at the Beginning. 

I have no doubt that some mothers, in reading this, will 
say that such management as this is mere trifling and play ; 
and that real and actual children, with all their natural tur- 
bulence, insubordination, and obstinacy, can never be really 
governed by any such means. I answer that w^hether it 
proves on trial to be merely trifling and play or not de- 
pends upon the firmness, steadiness, and decision with 
which the mother carries it into execution. Every method 
of management requires firmness, perseverance, and decis- 
ion on the part of the mother to make it successful, but, 
with these qualities duly exercised, it is astonishing what 
slight and gentle penalties will suffice for the most com- 
plete establishment of her authority. I knew a mother 
whose children were trained to habits of almost perfect 
obedience, and whose only method of punishment, so far 
as I know, was to require the offender to stand on one foot 
and count five, ten, or twenty, according to the nature and 
aggravation of the offense. Such a mother, of course, be- 



GENTLE PUNISHMENT OF DISOBEDIENCE. 5i 

gins early with her children. She trains them from their 
earliest years to this constant subjection of their will to 
hers. Such i3enalties, moreover, owe their efficiency not to 
the degree of pain or inconvenience that they impose upon 
the offender, but mainly upon their calling his attention^ 
distinctly, after every offense, to the fact that he has don(3 
wrong. Slight as this is, it will prove to be sufficient if it 
always comes — if no case of disobedience or of willful 
wrong-doing of any kind is allowed to pass unnoticed, or is 
not followed by the infliction of the proper penalty. It is 
in all cases the certainty, and not the severity, of punish- 
ment which constitutes its power. 

Su2J]^ose one is not at the Beginning. 

What has been said thus far relates obviously to cases 
where the mother is at the commencement of her work of 
training. This is the way to begin; but you can not begin 
unless you are at the beginning. If your children are part- 
ly grown, and you find that they are not under your com- 
mand, the difficulty is much greater. The principles which 
should govern the management are the same, but they can 
not be applied by means so gentle. The f)rison, it may be, 
must now be somewhat more real, the terms of imprison- 
ment somewhat longer, and there may be cases of insubor- 
dination so decided as to require the offender to be carried 
to it by force, on account of his refusal to go of his own 
accord, and perhaps to be held there, or even to be tied. 
Cases requiring treatment so decisive as this must be very 
rare with children under ten years of age ; and when they 
occur, the mother has reason to feel great self-condemna- 
tion — or at least great self-abasement — at finding that she 
has failed so entirely in the first great moral duty of the 
mother, which is to train her children to complete submis- 
sion to her authority from the beginning. 



52 GENTLE MEASUEES. 

Children coining under JVeic Control. 

Sometimes, however, it happens that children are trans- 
ferred from one charge to another, so that the one upon 
whom the duty of government devolves, perhaps only for a 
time, finds that the child or children put under his or her 
charge have been trained by previous mismanagement to 
habits of utter insubordination. I say, trained to such hab- 
its, for the practice of allowing children to gain their ends 
by any particular means is really training them to the use 
of those means. Thus multitudes of children are taught to 
disobey, and trained to habits of insubmission and insubor- 
dination, by the means most effectually adapted to that end. 

Difficulties. 

When under these circumstances the children come un- 
der a new charge, whether permanently or temporarily, the 
task of re-forming their characters is more delicate and dif- 
ficult than where one can begin at the beginning; but the 
principles are the same, and the success is equally certain. 
The difiiculty is somewhat increased by the fact that the 
person thus provisionally in charge has often no natural 
authority over the child, and the circumstances may more- 
over be such as to make it necessary to abstain carefully 
from any measures that would lead to difiiculty or collis- 
ion, to cries, complaints to the mother, or any of those oth- 
er forms of commotion or annoyance which ungoverned 
children know so well how to employ in gaining their 
ends. The mother may be one of those weak-minded 
M'omen who can never see any thing unreasonable in the 
crying complaints made by their children against other 
people. Or she may be sick, and it may be very im- 
portant to avoid every thing that could agitate or disturb 
her. 



GENTLE PUNISHMENT OF DISOBEDIENCE. 53 

George and JEJghert. 

This last was the case of George, a young man of sev- 
enteen, who came to spend some time at home after an ab- 
sence of two years in the city. He found his mother sick, 
and his little brother, Egbert, utterly insubordinate and un- 
manageable. 

" The first thing I have to do," said George to himself, 
when he observed how things were, '* is to get command 
of Egbert ;" and as the first lesson which he gave his little 
brother illustrates well the principle of gentle but efficient 
punishment, I will give it here. 

Egbert was ten years of age. He was very fond of go- 
ing a - fishing, but he was not allowed to go alone. His 
mother, very weak and vacillating about some things, was 
extremely decided about this. So Egbert had learned to 
submit to this restriction, as he would have done to all 
others if his mother had been equally decided in respect 
to all. 

The first thing that Egbert thought of the next morning 
after his brother's return was that George might go a-fish- 
ins: with him. 

" I don't know," replied George, in a hesitating and 
doubtful tone. " I don't know whether it will do for me 
to go a-fishing with you. I don't know whether I can de- 
pend upon your always obeying me and doing as I say." 

Egbert made very positive promises, and so it was de- 
cided to go. George took great interest in helping Eg- 
bert about his fishing-tackle, and did all in his power in 
other ways to establish friendly relations with him, and at 
length they set out. They walked a little distance down 
what was in the winter a wood road, and then came to a 
place where two paths led into a wood. Either of them 
led to the river. But there was a brook to cross, and for 



54 GENTLE MEASURES. 

one of these paths there was a bridge. There was none 
for the other. George said that they would take the for- 
mer. Egbert, however, paid no regard to this direction, 
but saying simply " ISJ'o, I'd rather go this way," walked 
off in the other path. 

" I was afraid you would not obey me," said George, and 
then turned and followed Egbert into the forbidden path, 
without making any further objection. Egbert concluded 
at once that he should find George as easily to be managed 
as he had found other people. 

The Disobedience. 

When they came in sight of the brook, George saw that 
there was a narrow log across it, in guise of a bridge. He 
called out to Egbert, who had gone on before him, not to 
go over the log until lie came. But Egbert called back in 
reply that there was no danger, that he could go across 
alone, and so went boldly over. George, on arriving at 
the brook, and finding that the log was firm and strong, 
followed Egbert over it. " I told you I could go across 
it," said Egbert. " Yes," replied George, " and you were 
right in that. You did cross it. The log is very steady. 
I think it makes quite a good bridge." 

Egbert said he could hop across it on one foot, and 
George gave him leave to try, while he, George, held his 
fishing-pole for him. George followed him over the log, 
and then told him that he was very sorry to say it, but that 
he found that they could not go a-fishing that day. Eg- 
bert wished to know the reason. George said it was a 
private reason and he could not tell him then, but that he 
would tell him that evening after he had gone to bed. 
There was a story about it, too, he said, that he would tell 
him at the same time. 

Egbert was curious to know what the reason could be 



GENTLE PUNISHMENT OF DISOBEDIENCE. 55 

for changing the plan, and also to hear the story. Still he 
was extremely disappointed in having to lose his fishing, 
and very much disposed to be angry with George for not 
going on. It was, however, difficult to get very angry with- 
out knowing George's reason, and George, though he said 
that the reason was a good one — that it was a serious dif 
ficulty in the w^ay of going a-fishing that day, which had 
only come to his knowledge since they left home, steadily 
persisted in declining to explain what the difficulty was 
until the evening, and began slowly to walk back toward 
the house. 

Egbert becomes Sullen. 

Egbert then declared that, at any rate, he would not go 
home. If he could not go a-fishing he would stay there in 
the woods. George readily fell in with this idea. "Here 
is a nice place for me to sit down on this flat rock under 
tlie trees," said he, " and I have got a book in my pocket. 
You can play about in the woods as long as you please. 
Perhaps you will see a squirrel ; if you do, tell me, and I 
will come and help you catch him." So saying, he took 
out his book and sat down under the trees and began to 
read. Egbert, after loitering about sullenly a few minutes, 
began to walk up the path, and said that he was going 
home. 

George, however, soon succeeded in putting him in good- 
humor again by talking with him in a friendly manner, and 
without manifesting any signs of displeasure, and also by 
playing with him on the way. He took care to keep on 
friendly terms with him all the afternoon, aiding him in 
his various undertakings, and contributing to his amuse- 
ment in every way as much as he could, while he made no 
complaint, and expressed no dissatisfaction with him in any 
way whatever. 



56 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Final Disposition of the Case. 

After ^Egbert had gone to bed, and before he went to 
sleep, George made him a visit at his bedside, and, after a 
little playful frolic with him, to put him in special good- 
humor, said he would make his explanation. 

*' The reason why I had to give up the fishing expedi- 
tion," he said, " was, I found that I could not depend upon 
your obeying me." 

Egbert, after a moment's pause, said that he did not dis- 
obey him ; and when George reminded him of his taking 
the path that he was forbidden to take, and of his crossing 
the log bridge against orders, he said that that path led to 
the river by the shortest way, and that he knew that the 
log was firm and steady, and that he could go over it with' 
out falling in. "And so you thought you had good rea- 
sons for disobeying me," rejoined George. " Yes," said 
Egbert, triumphantly. "That is just it," said George. 
" You are willing to obey, except when you think you have 
good reasons for disobeying, and then you disobey. That's 
the way a great many boys do, and that reminds me of the 
story I was going to tell you. It is about some soldiers." 

George then told Egbert^a long story about a colonel 
who sent a captain with a company of men on a secret 
expedition with specific orders, and the captain disobeyed 
the orders and crossed a stream with his force, when he 
had been directed to remain on the hither side of it, think- 
ing himself that it would be better to cross, and in conse- 
quence of it he and all his force were captured by the en- 
emy, who were lying in ambush near by, as the colonel 
knew, though the captain did not know it. George con- 
cluded his story with some very forcible remarks, showing, 
in a manner adapted to Egbert's state of mental develop- 
ment, how essential it was to the character of a good sol- 



GENTLE PUNISHMENT OF DISOBEDIENCE. 57 

dier that he should obey implicitly all the commands of 
his superior, without ever presuming to disregard them on 
the ground of his seeing good reason for doing so. 

He then went on to relate another story of an officer on 
whom the general could rely for implicit and unhesitating 
obedience to all his commands, and who was sent on an 
important expedition with orders, the reasons for which he 
did not understand, but all of which he promptly obeyed, 
and thus brought the expedition to a successful conclusion. 
He made the story interesting to Egbert by narrating many 
details of a character adapted to Egbert's comprehension, 
and at the end drew a moral from it for his instruction. 

The Moral. 

This moral was not, as some readers might perhaps an- 
ticipate, and as, indeed, many persons of less tact might 
have made it, that Egbert ought himself, as a boy, to obey 
those in authority over him. Instead of this he closed by 
saying: "And I advise you, if you grow up to be a man 
and ever become the general of an army, never to trust any 
captain or colonel with the charge of an important enter- 
prise, unless they are men that know how to obey." Eg- 
bert answered very gravely that he was " determined that 
he wouldn't." 

Soon after this George bade him good-night and w^ent 
away. The next day he told Egbert not to be discouraged 
at his not having yet learned to obey." " There are a great 
many boys older than you," he said, " who have not learned 
this lesson; but you will learn in time. I can't go a-fish- 
ing with you, or undertake any other great expeditions, tih 
I find I can trust you entirely to do exactly as I say \ii 
cases where I have a right to decide ; but j^ou will learn 
before long, and then w^e can do a great m^ny things to- 
gether which ^ve can not rlQ now," 

C 2 



58 GENTLE MEASURES. 

The Principles Illustrated. 

Any one who has any proper understanding of the work 
ings of the juvenile mind will see that George, by mana- 
ging Egbert on these principles, would in a short time ac- 
quire complete ascendency over him, while the boy would 
very probably remain, in relation to his mother, as disobe- 
dient and insubordinate as ever. If the penalty annexed 
to the transgression is made as much as possible the nec- 
essary and natural consequence of it, and is insisted upon 
calmly, deliberately, and with inflexible decision, but with- 
out irritation, without reproaches, almost without any indi- 
cations even of displeasure, but is, on the contrary, lighten- 
ed as much as possible by sympathy and kindness, and by 
taking the most indulgent views, and admitting the most pal- 
liating considerations in respect to the nature of the offense, 
the result will certainly be the establishment of the authority 
of the parent or guardian on a firm and permanent basis. 

There are a great many cases of this kind, where a child 
with confirmed habits of insubordination comes under the 
charge of a person who is not responsible for the formation 
of these habits. Even the mother herself sometimes finds 
herself in substantially this position with her own children ; 
as, for example, when after some years of lax and inefficient 
government she becomes convinced that her management 
lias been wrong, and that it threatens to bring foi'th bitter 
fruits unless it is reformed. In these cases, although the 
work is somewhat more difficult, the principles on which 
success depends are the same. Slight penalties, firmly, de- 
cisively, and invariably enforced — without violence, without 
scolding, without any manifestation of resentment or anger, 
and, except in extreme cases, without even expressions of 
displeasure — constitute a system which, if carried out calm- 
ly, but with firmness and decision, will assuredly succeed. 



OENTLE PUNISHMENT OF DISOBEDIENCE. 5'J 

The real Difficulty. 

The case would thus seem to be very simple, and suo« 
cess very easy. But, alas ! this is far from being the case. 
Nothing is required, it is true, but firmness, steadiness, and 
decision ; but, unfortunately, these are the very requisites 
which, of all others, it seems most difficult for mothei'S to 
command. They can not govern their children because 
they can not govern themselves. 

Still, if the mother possess these qualities in any tolera- 
ble degree, or is able to acquire them, this method of train- 
ing her children to the habit of submitting implicitly to 
her authority, by calmly and good-naturedly, but firmly and 
invariably, affixing some slight privation or penalty to ev- 
ery act of resistance to her will, is the easiest to practice, 
and will certainly be successful. It requires no ingenuity, 
no skill, no contrivance, no thought — nothing but steady 
persistence in a simple routine. This was the first of the 
three modes of action enumerated at the commencement 
of this discussion. There were two others named, which, 
though requiring higher quaUties in the mother than sim- 
ple steadiness of purpose, will make the work far more easy 
and agreeable, where these qualities are possessed. 

Some further consideration of the subject of punishment, 
with special reference to the light in which it is to be re- 
garded in respect to its nature and its true mode of action, 
will occupy the next chapter. 



60 GENTLE MEASURES. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE PHILOSOPHY OF PUNISHMENT. 

It is very desirable that every parent and teacher should 
have a distinct and clear conception of the true nature of 
punishment, and of the precise nrianner in which it is de- 
signed to act in repressing offenses. This is necessary in 
order that the punitive measures which he may employ 
may accomplish the desired good, and avoid the evils which 
so often follow in their train. 

Nature and Design of Punishment. 

The fiist question which is to be considered in determin- 
ing upon the principles to be adopted and the course to be 
pursued with children in respect to punishment, is, which 
of the two views in respect to the nature and design of 
punishment which prevail in the minds of men we will 
adopt in shaping our system. For, 

1. Punishment may be considered in the light of a vin- 
dictive retribution for sin — a penalty demanded by the 
eternal principles of justice as the natural and proper se- 
quel and complement of the past act of transgression, with 
or without regard to any salutary effects that may result 
from it in respect to future acts. Or, 

2. It may be considered as a remedial measure, adopted 
solely with reference to its influence as a means of deter- 
ring the subject of it, or others, from transgression in time 
to come. 

According to the first view, punishment is a penalty 
Vf\imh justice demands as a satisfaction for the past. Ac- 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF PUNISHMENT. 6J 

cording to the other it is a remedy which goodness devises 
for the benefit of the future. 

Theologians have lost themselves in endless speculations 
on the question how far, in the government of God, punish- 
ment is to be considered as possessing one or the other of 
these two characters, or both combined. There seems to 
be also some uncertainty in the minds of men in relation to 
the precise light in which the penalties of violated law are 
to be regarded by civil governments, and the spirit in which 
they are to be administered — they being apparently, as pre- 
scribed and employed by most governments, in some re- 
spects, and to some extent, retributive and vindictive, and 
in other respects remedial and curative. 

It would seem, however, that in respect to school and 
family government there could be no question on this point. 
The punishment of a child by a parent, or of a pupil by a 
teacher, ought certainly, one would think, to exclude the el- 
ement of vindictive retribution altogether, and to be em- 
ployed solely with reference to the salutary influences that 
may be expected from it in time to come. If the injunc- 
tion " Vengeance is mine, I will repay it, saith the Lord " 
is to be recognized at all, it certainly ought to be acknowl- 
edged here. 

This principle, once fully and cordially admitted, simpli- 
fies the subject of punishment, as administered by parents 
and teachers, very much. One extremely important and 
very striking result of it will appear from a moment's re- 
flection. It is this, namely : 

It excludes completely and effectually all manifestations 
of irritation or excitement in the infliction of punishment — 
all harsh tones of voice, all scowling or angry looks, all vio- 
lent or threatening gesticulations, and every other mode, in 
fact, of expressing indignation or passion. Such indications 
as these are wholly out of place in punishment considered 



62 GENTLE MEASURES. 

as the ai^plication of a remedy devised beneficently with 
the sole view of accomplishing a future good. They com- 
port only with punishment considered as vengeance, or a 
vindictive retribution for the past sin. 

This idea is fundamental. Tlie mother who is made an- 
gry by the misconduct of her children, and punishes them 
in a passion, acts under the influence of a brute instinct. 
Her family government is in principle the same as that of 
the lower animals over their young. It is, however, at any 
rate, a gox^ernment; and such government is certainly bet- 
ter than none. But human parents, in the training of their 
human offspring, ought surely to aim at something higher 
and nobler. They who do so, who possess themselves fully 
with the idea that punishment, as they are to administer it, 
is wholly remedial in its character — that is to say, is to be 
considered solely with reference to the future good to be 
attained by it, will have established in their minds a prin- 
ciple that will surely guide them into right ways, and bring 
them out successfully in the end. They will soon acquire 
the habit of never threatening, of never punishing in anger, 
and of calmly considering, in the case of the faults which 
they observe in their children, what course of procedure 
will be most effectual in correcting them. 

Parents seem sometimes to have an idea that a manifes- 
tation of something like anger — or, at least, very serious 
displeasure on their part — is necessary in order to make a 
proper impression in respect to its fault on the mind of 
the child. This, however, I think, is a mistake. The im- 
pression is made by what we c?o, and not by the indications 
of irritation or displeasure which we manifest in doing it. 
To illustrate this, I will state a case, narrating all its essen- 
tial points just as it occurred. The case is very analogous, 
in many particulars, to that of Egbert and George related 
in the last chapter. 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF PUNISHMENT. 63 

Mary's Walk, 

" Mary," said Mary's aunt, Jane, who had come to make 
a visit at Mary's mother's in the country, " I am going to 
the village this afternoon, and if you would like you may 
12:0 with me." 

Mary was, of course, much pleased with this invitation. 

"A part of the way," continued her aunt, "is by a path 
across the fields. While we are there you must keep in 
the path all the time, for it rained a little this morning, and 
I am afraid that the grass may not be quite dry." 

" Yes, Aunt Jane ; I'll keep in the path," said Mary. 

So they set out on the walk together. When they came 
to the gate which led to the path across the fields. Aunt 
Jane said, " Remember, Mary, you must keep in the path." 

Mary said nothing, but ran forward. Pretty soon she 
began to walk a little on the margin of the grass, and, be- 
fore long, observing a place where the grass was short and 
where the sun shone, she ran out boldly upon it, and then, 
looking down at her shoes, she observed that they were not 
wet. She held up one of her feet to her aunt as she came 
opposite to the place, saying, 

" See, aunt, the grass is not wet at all." 

" I see it is not," said her aunt. " I thought it would not 
be wet ; though I was not sure but that it might be. But 
come," she added, holding out her hand, " I have concluded 
not to go to the village, after all. We are going back 
home." 

" Oh, Aunt Jane !" said Mary, following her aunt as she 
began retracing her steps along the path. " What is that 
for ?" 

" I have altered my mind," said her aunt. 

" What makes you alter your mind ?" 

By this time Aunt Jane had taken hold of Mary's hand, 



64 GENTLE MEASURES. 

and they were walking together along the path towards 
home. 

" Because you don't obey me," she said. 

" Why, auntie," said Mary, " the grass was not wet at all 
where I went." 

" No," said her aunt, " it was perfectly dry." 

" And it did not do any harm at all for me to walk upon 
it," said Mary, 

" Not a bit of harm," said her aunt. 

" Then why are you going home ?" asked Mary. 

" Because you don't obey me," replied her aunt. 

" You see," said her aunt, " there is one thing about this 
that you don't understand, because you are such a little 
girl. You will understand it by-and-by, when you grow 
older ; and I don't blame you for not knowing it now, be- 
cause you are so young." 

" What is it that I don't know ?" asked Mary. 

" I am afraid you would not understand it very well if I 
were to explain it," replied her aunt. 

" Try me," said Mary. 

" Well, you see," replied her aunt, " I don't feel safe with 
any child that does not obey me. This time no harm was 
done, because the grass happened to be dry; but farther 
on there was a brook. I might have told you not to go 
near the brink of the brook for fear of your falling in. 
Then you might have gone, notwithstanding, if you thought 
there was no danger, just as you went out upon the grass 
because you thought it was not wet, notwithstanding my 
saying that you must keep in the path. So you see I never 
feel safe in taking walks in places where there is any dan- 
ger with children that I can not always depend upon to do 
exactly what I say." 

Mary was, of course, now ready to make profuse prom- 
ises that she would obey her aunt in future on all occa- 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF PUNISHMEXT. 65 

sions, and began to beg that she would continue her walk 
to the village. 

" No," said her aunt, " I don't think it would be quite safe 
for me to trust to your promises, though I have no doubt 
you honestly mean to keep them. But you remember you 
promised me that you would keep in the path when we 
planned this walk; and yet when the time of temptation 
came you could not keep the promise ; but you will learn. 
When I am going on some perfectly safe walk I will take 
you with me again ; and if I stay here some time you wall 
learn to obey me so perfectly that I can take you with me 
to any place, no matter how dangerous it may be." 

Aunt Jane thus gently, but firmly, persisted in abandon- 
ing the walk to the village, and returning home ; but she 
immediately turned the conversation away from the sub- 
ject of Mary's fault, and amused her with stories and aid- 
ed her in gathering flowers, just as if nothing had hap- 
pened; and when she arrived at home she said nothing 
to any one of Mary's disobedience. Here now was punish- 
ment calculated to make a very strong impression — but 
still without scolding, without anger, almost, in fact, with- 
out even any manifestations of displeasure. And yet how 
long can any reasonable person suppose it would be before 
Mary would learn, if her aunt acted Invariably on the same 
principles, to submit implicitly to her will ? 

A Different 3fanagement. 

Compare the probable result of this mode of manage- 
ment with the scolding and threatening policy. Suppose 
Aunt Jane had called to Mary angrily, 

"Mary ! Mary ! come directly back into the path, I told 
you not to go out of the path, and you are a very naughty 
child to disobey me. The next time you disobey me in 
that way I will send you directly home." 



66 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Mary would have been vexed and irritated, perhaps, and 
would have said to herself, " How cross Aunt Jane is to- 
day !" but the " next time " she would have been as disobe- 
dient as ever. 

If mothers, instead of scowling, scolding, and threatening 
now, and putting off doing the thing that ought to be done 
to the " next time," would do that thing at once, and give 
up the scowling, scolding, and threatening altogether, they 
would find all parties immensely benefited by the change. 

It is evident, moreover, that by this mode of management 
the punishment is employed not in the way of retribution, 
but as a remedy. Mary loses her walk not on the groand 
that she deserved to lose it, but because it was not safe to 
continue it. 

An Objection. 

Some mother may perhaps say, in reference to the case 
of Mary and her aunt, that it may be all very well in the- 
ory, but that practically mothers have not the leisure and 
the means for adopting such moderate measures. We can 
not stop, she may say, every time we are going to the vil- 
lage, on important business perhaps, and turn back and losu 
the afternoon on account of the waywardness of a disobe- 
dient child. 

My answer is that it will not have to be done every time^ 
but only very seldom. The effect of acting once or twice 
on this principle, with the certainty on the part of the child 
that the mother or the aunt will always act so when the oc- 
casion calls for it, very soon puts an end to all necessity for 
snch action. Indeed, if Mary, in the instance above given, 
had been managed in this way from infancy, she would not 
have thought of leaving the path when forbidden to do so. 
It is only in some such case as that of an aunt who knows 
how to manage right, coming as a visitor into the family of 



THE PHILOSOPHY OP PUKLSHMENT. 67 

a mother who manages wrong, that such an incident as this 
could occur. 

Still it must be admitted that the gentle methods of dis- 
cipline, which reason and common sense indicate as the true 
ones for permanently influencing the minds of children and 
forming their characters, do, in each individual case, require 
more time and care than the cuffs and slaps dictated by- 
passion. A box on the ear, such as a cat gives to a rebel- 
lious kitten, is certainly the quickest application that can be 
made. The measures that are calculated to reach and af- 
fect the heart can not vie with blows and scoldin^js in re- 
spect to the promptness of their action. Still, the parent or 
the teacher who will begin to act on the principles here 
recommended with children while they are young will find 
that such methods are far more prompt in their action and 
more effectual in immediate results than they would sup- 
j^ose, and that they will be the means of establishing the 
only kind of authority that is really worthy of the name 
more rapidly than any other. 

The special point, however, with a view to which these il- 
lustrations are introduced, is, as has been already remarked, 
that penalties of this nature, and imposed in this spirit, are 
not vindictive, but simply remedial and reformatory. They 
are not intended to satisfy the sense of justice for what is 
past, but only to secure greater safety and happiness in 
time to come. 

The Element of Invar iableness. 

Punishments may be very light and gentle in their char- 
acter, provided they are certain to follow the offense. It is 
in their certainty^ and not in their severity, that the efficien- 
cy of them lies. Very few children are ever severely burnt 
by putting their fingers into the flame of a candle. They 
are effectually taught not to put them in by very slight 



68 GENTLE MEASURES. 

burnings, on account of the absolute invariableness of the 
result produced by the contact. 

Mothers often do not understand this. They attempt to 
cure some habitual fault by scoldings and threats, and dec- 
larations of what they will certainly do "next time," and 
perhaps by occasional acts of real severity in cases of pe- 
culiar aggravation, instead of a quiet, gentle, and compara- 
tively trifling infliction in ever^ instance of the fault, which 
would be altogether more effectual. 

A child, for example, has acquired the habit of leaving 
the door open. Now occasionally scolding him, when it is 
specially cold, and now and then shutting him up in a closet 
for half an hour, will never cure him of the fault. But if 
there were an automaton figure standing by the side of the 
door, to say to him every time that he came through with- 
out shutting it. Door ! which call should be a signal to him 
to go back and shut the door, and then sit down in a chair 
near by and count ten ; and if this slight penalty was inva- 
riably enforced, he w^ould be most effectually cured of the 
fault in a very short time. 

Now, the mother can not be exactly this automaton, for 
she can not always be there; but she can recognize the 
principle, and carry it into effect as far as possible — that is, 
invariably^ lohen she is there. And though she will not 
thus cure the boy of the fault so soon as the automaton 
would do it, she will still do it very soon. 

Irritation and Anger. 

Avoid, as much as possible, every thing of an irritating 
character in the punishments inflicted, for to irritate fre- 
quently the mind of a child tends, of course, to form within 
him an irritable and unamiable temper. It is true, per- 
haps, that it is not possible absolutely to avoid this effect 
of punishment in all cases ; but a great deal may be done 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF PUNISHMENT. 69 

to diminish the evil by the exercise of a little tact and in- 
genuity on the part of the mother whose attention is once 
particularly directed to the subject. 

The first and most important measure of precaution on 
this point is the absolute exclusion of every thing like an- 
gry looks and words as accompaniments of punishment. If 
you find that any wrong which your child commits awakens 
irritation or anger in your mind, suspend your judgment 
of the case and postpone all action until the irritation and 
anger have subsided, and you can consider calmly and de- 
liberately what to do, with a view, not of satisfying your 
own resentment, but of doing good to the child. Then, 
when you have decided what to do, carry your decision 
into effect in a good-natured manner — firmly and inflexibly — 
but still without any violence, or even harshness, of manner. 

Co-operation of the Offender. 

There are many cases in w^hich, by the exercise of a little 
tact and ingenuity, the parent can actually secure the co- 
operation of the child in the infliction of the punishment 
prescribed for the curing of a fault. There are many ad- 
vantages in this, when it can be done. It gives the child 
an interest in curing himself of the fault; it makes the 
punishment more effectual ; and it removes almost all pos- 
sibility of its producing any irritation or resentment in his 
mind. To illustrate this we will give a case. It is of no 
consequence, for the purpose of this article, whether it is a 
real or an imaginary one. 

Little Egbert, seven years old, had formed the habit so 
common among children of wasting a great deal of time in 
dressing himself, so as not to be ready for breakfast when 
the second bell rang. His mother offered him a reward if 
he would himself devise any plan that would cure him of 
the fault. 



70 GENTLE MEASURES. 

"I don't know what to do, exactly, to cure you," she 
Baid ; " but if you will think of any plan that will really 
succeed, I will give you an excursion in a carriage." 

" How far ?" asked Egbert. 

"Ten miles," said his mother. "I will take you in a 
carriage on an excursion anywhere you say, for ten miles, 
if you will find out some way to cure yourself of this 
fault." 

" I think you ought to punish me," said Egbert, speak- 
ing in rather a timid tone. 

"That's just it," said his mother. "It is for you to 
think of some kind of punishment that won't be too dis- 
agreeable for me to inflict, and which will yet be success- 
ful in curing you of the fault. I will allow you a fortnight 
to get cured. If you are not cured in a fortnight I shall 
think the punishment is not enough, or that it is not of a 
good kind ; but if it works so well as to cure you in a fort- 
night, then you shall have the ride." 

Egbert wished to know whether he must think of the 
punishment himself, or whether his sister Mary might help 
him. His mother gave him leave to ask any body to help 
him that he pleased. Mary, after some reflection, recom- 
mended that, whenever he was not dressed in time, he was 
to have only one lump of sugar, instead of four, in his tum- 
bler of water for breakfast. 

His usual drink at breakfast was a tumbler of water, 
with four lumps of sugar in it. The first bell was rung at 
half-past six, and breakfast was at half-past seven. His sis- 
ter recommended that, as half an hour was ample time for 
the work of dressing, Egbert should go down every morn- 
ing and report himself ready before the clock struck seven. 
If he failed of this, he was to have only one lump of sugar, 
instead of four, in his glass of water. 

There was some question about the necessity of requir- 



THE FHILOSOPUY OF PUNISHMENT. 71 

iDg him to be ready before seven ; Egbert being inclined to 
argue that if he was ready by breakfast-time, that would 
be enough. But Mary said no. "To allow you a full hour 
to dress," she said, " when half an hour is enough, may an- 
swer very well in respect to having you ready for break- 
fast, but it is no way to cure you of the fault. That would 
enable you to play half of the time while you are dressing, 
without incurring the punishment; but the way to cure 
you is to make it sure that you will have the punishment 
to bear if you play at all." 

So it was decided to allow only half an hour for the 
dressing-time. 

Egbert's mother said she was a little afraid about the 
one lump of sugar that was left to him when he failed. 

" The plan may succeed," she said ; " I am very willing 
that you should try it; but I am afraid that when you are 
tempted to stop and play in the midst of your dressing, you 
will say, I shall have one lump of sugar, at any rate, and 
so will yield to the temptation. So perhaps it would be 
safer for you to make the rule that you are not to have any 
sugar at all when you fail. ^tiW, perhcqjs your plan will suc- 
ceed. You can try it and see. I should wish myself to have 
the punishment as slight as possible to produce the effect." 

By such management as this, it is plain that Egbert is 
brought into actual co-operation with his mother in the in- 
fliction of a punishment to cure him of a fault. It is true, 
that making such an arrangement as this, and then leaving 
it to its own working, would lead to no result. As in the 
case of all other plans and methods, it must be strictly, 
fii'mly, and perseveringly followed up by the watchful effi- 
ciency of the mother. We can not substitute the action of 
the child for that of the parent in the work of early train- 
ing, but we can often derive very great advantage by se- 
curing his co-operation. 



73 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Playful Punishments. 

So true is it that the efficacy of any mode of punishment 
consists in the certainty of its infliction, that even playful 
punishments are in many cases sufficient to accomplish the 
cure of a fault. George, for example, was in the habit of 
continually getting into disputes and mild quarrels with 
his sister Amelia, a year or two younger than himself. " I 
know it is very foolish," he said to his mother, when she 
was talking with him on the subject one evening after lie 
had gone to bed, and she had been telling him a story, and 
his mind was in a calm and tranquil state. "It is very 
foolish, but somehow I can't help it. I forget." 

" Then you must have some punishment to make you re- 
member," said his mother. 

" But sometimes she is the one to blame," said George, 
" and then she must have the punishment." 

" No," replied his mother. " When a lady and a gentle- 
man become involved in a dispute in polite society, it is al- 
ways the gentleman that must be considered to be to blame." 

" But Amelia and I are not polite society," said George. 

"You ought to be," said his mother. "At any rate, 
when you, an older brother, get into disputes with your 
sister, it is because you have not sense enough to manage 
so as to avoid them. Ii you were a little older and wiser 
you would have sense enough." 

" Well, mother, what shall the punishment be ?" said 
George. 

" Would you really like to have a punishment, so as to 
cure yourself of the fault ?" asked his mother. 

George said that he would like one. 

" Tlien," said his mother, " I propose that every time you 
get into a dispute with Amelia, you turn your jacket wrong 
side out, and wear it so a little while as a symbol of folly." 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF PUNISHMENT. 73 

George laughed heartily at this idea, and said he should 
like such a punishment as that very much. It would only 
be fun he said. His mother explained to him that it would 
be fun, perhaps, two or three times, but after that it would 
only be a trouble ; but still, if they decided upon that as 
a punishment, he must submit to it in every case. Every 
time he found himself getting into any dispute or difficulty 
with his sister, he must stop at once and turn his jacket 
inside out ; and if he did not himself think to do this, she 
herself, if she was within hearing, w^ould simply say, " Jack- 
et !" and then he must do it. 

"No matter which of us is most to blame?" asked 
George. 

"You will always be the one that is most to blame," re- 
plied his mother, " or, at least, almost always. When a boy 
is playing with a sister younger than himself he is the one 
that is most to blame for the quarrelling. His sister may be 
to blame by doing something wrong in the first instance; 
but he is the one to blame for allowing it to lead to a quar- 
rel. If it is a little thing, he ought to yield to her, and not 
to mind it ; and if it is a great thing, he ought to go away 
and leave her, rather than to stop and quarrel about it. So 
you see you will be the one to blame for the quarrel in al- 
most all cases. There may possibly be some cases where 
you will not be to blame at all, and then you w^ill have to 
be punished when you don't deserve it, and you must bear 
it like a man. This is a liability that happens under all 
systems. 

" We will try the plan for one fortnight," she continued. 
" So now remember, every single time that I hear you dis- 
puting or quarrelling with Amelia you must take off your 
jacket and put it on again wrong side out — no matter 
whether you think you were to blame or not — and wear it 
so a few minutes. You can wear it so for a longer or 

P 



74 GENTLE MEASURES. 

shorter time, just as you think is best to make the punish- 
ment effectual in curing you of the fault. By the end of 
the fortnight we shall be able to see whether the plan is 
working well and doing any good. 

" So now," continued his mother, " shut up your eyes 
and go to sleep. You are a good boy to wish to cure your- 
self of such faults, and to b6 willing to help me in contriv- 
ing ways to do it. And I have no doubt that you will sub- 
mit to this punishment good-naturedly every time, and not 
make me any trouble about it." 

Let it be remembered, now, that the efficacy of such man- 
agement as this consists not in the devising of it, nor in 
holding such a conversation as the above with the boy — 
salutary as this might be — but in the faithfulness and 
strictness toith which it is followed up during the fortnight 
of trial. 

In the case in question, the progress which George made 
in diminishing his tendency to get into disputes with his 
sister was so great that his mother told him, at the end of 
the first fortnight, that their plan had succeeded " admira- 
bly" — so much so, she said, that she thought the punish- 
ment of taking off his jacket and turning it inside out 
would be for the future unnecessarily severe, and she pro- 
posed to substitute for it taking off his cap, and putting it 
on wrong side before. 

The reader will, of course, understand that the object of 
such an illustration as this is not to recommend the partic- 
ular measure here described for adoption in other cases, but 
to illustrate the spirit and temper of mind in which all meas- 
ures adopted by the mother in the training of her children 
should be carried into effect. Measures that involve no 
threats, no scolding, no angry manifestations of displeasure, 
but are even playful in their character, may be very efficient 
in action if they are firmly and perseveringly maintained. 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF PUNISHIIEKT. 76 

Punishments that are the Natural Consequence of the 

Offense. 

There is great advantage in adapting the character of 
the punishment to that of the fault — making it, as far as 
possible, the natural and proper consequence of it. For in- 
stance, if the boys of a school do not come in promptly at 
the close of the twenty minutes' recess, but waste five min- 
utes by their dilatoriness in obeying the summons of the 
bell, and the teacher keeps them iov Jive 7ninutes beyond the 
usual hour of dismissal, to make up for the lost time, the 
punishment may be felt by them to be deserved, and it may 
have a good effect in diminishing the evil it is intended to 
remedy; but it will probably excite a considerable degree 
of mental irritation, if not of resentment, on the part of the 
children, which will diminish the good effect, or is, at any 
rate, an evil which is to be avoided if possible. 

If now, on the other hand, he assigns precisely the same 
penalty in another form, the whole of the good effect may 
be secured w^ithout the evil. Suppose he addresses the boys 
just before they are to go out at the next recess, as follows : 

" I think, boys, that twenty minutes is about the right 
length of time for the recess, all told — that is, from the time 
you go out to the time when you are all back in your seats 
again, quiet and ready to resume your studies. I found 
yesterday that it took five minutes for you all to come in — 
that is, that it was five minutes from the time the bell was 
rung before all were in their seats ; and to-day I shall ring 
the bell after fifteen minutes, so as to give you time to 
come in. If I find to-day that it takes ten minutes, then I 
will give you more time to come in to-morrow, by ringnig 
the bell after you have been out ten minutes. 

" I am sorry to have you lose so much of your recess, 
and if you can make the time for coming in shorter, then, 



re GENTLE MEASURES. 

of course, your recess can be longer. I should not won- 
der if, after a few trials, you should find that you could all 
come in and get into your places in one minute ; and if so, 
I shall be very glad, for then you can have an uninterrupt- 
ed recess of nineteen minutes, which will be a great gain." 
Every one who has had any considerable experience in 
the management of boys will readily understand how dif- 
ferent the effect of this measure will be from that of the 
other, while yet the penalty is in both cases precisely the 
same — namely, the loss, for the boys, of five minutes of 
their play. 

The Little Runaway. 

In the same manner, where a child three or four years 
old was in the habit, when allowed to go out by himself in 
the yard to play, of running off into the street, a very ap- 
propriate punishment would be to require him, for the re- 
mainder of the day, to stay in the house and keep in sight 
of his mother, on the ground that it was not safe to trust 
him by himself in the yard. This would be much better 
than sending him to bed an hour earlier, or subjecting him 
to any other inconvenience or privation having no obvious 
connection with the fault. For it is of the greatest impor- 
tance to avoid, by every means, the exciting of feelings of 
irritation and resentment in the mind of the child, so far as 
it is possible to do this without impairing the efficiency of 
the punishment. It is not always possible to do this. The 
efficiency of the punishment is, of course, the essential thing ; 
but parents and teachers who turn their attention to the 
point will find that it is much less difficult than one would 
suppose to secure this end completely without producing 
the too frequent accompaniments of punishment — anger, 
ill-temper, and ill-will. 

In the case, for example, of the child not allowed to go 



THE PHILOSOPHY OF PUNISHMENT. 79 

out into the yard, but required to remain in the liouse in 
sight of his mother, the mother should not try to make the 
punishment Qnore heavy by speaking again and again of 
his fault, and evincing her displeasure by trying to make 
the confinement as irksome to the child as possible ; but, 
on the other hand, should do all in her power to alleviate 
it. " I am very sorry," she might say, " to have to keep 
you in the house. It would be much pleasanter for you to 
go out and play in the yard, if it Avas only safe. I don't 
blame you very much for running away. It is what fool- 
ish little children, as little as you, very often do. I sup- 
pose you thought it would be good fun to run out a little 
way in the street. And it is good fun; but it is not safe. 
By-and-by, when you grow a little larger, you won't be so 
foolish, and then I can trust you in the yard at any time 
without having to w^atch you at all. And now what can I 
get for you to amuse you while you stay in the house with 
me?" 

Punishment coming in this way, and administered in this 
spirit, will irritate the mind and injure the temper compar- 
atively little ; and, instead of being less^ will be much more 
effective in accomplishing the right hind of cure for the 
fault, than any stern, severe, and vindictive retribution can 
possibly be. 

The Question of Corporal Punishr)\ent. 

The question of resorting to corporal punishment in the 
training of the young has been much, very much, argued 
md discussed on both sides by writers on education; but 
it seems to me to be mainly a question of competency and 
jBkill. If the parent or teacher has tact or skill enough, 
and practical knowledge enough of the workings of the 
youthful mind, he can gain all the necessary ascendency /^ 
over it without resort to the violent infliction of bodilv 



80 QENTLE MEASURES. 

pain in any form. If he has not these qualities, then he 
must turn to the next best means at his disposal; for it is 
better that a child should be trained and governed by the 
rod than not trained and governed at all. I do not sup- 
pose that savages could possibly control their children 
without blows ; while, on the other hand, Maria Edgeworth 
would have brought under complete submission to her 
will a family of the most ardent and impulsive juveniles, 
perhaps without even a harsh w^ord or a frown. If a 
mother begins with children at the beginning, is just and 
true in all her dealings with them, gentle in manner, but 
inflexibly firm in act, and looks constantly for Divine guid- 
ance and aid in her conscientious efforts to do her duty, I 
feel quite confident that it will never be necessary for her 
to strike them. The necessity may, however, sooner or 
later come, for aught I know, in the case of those who act 
on the contrary principle. Under such management, the 
rod may come to be the only alternative to absolute un- 
manageableness and anarchy. 

There will be occasion, however, to refer to this subject 
more fully in a future chapter. 



EEWARDINQ OBEDIENCE, 81 



CHAPTER VI. 
REWARDING OBEDIENCE. 

The mode of action described in the last two chapters 
for training children to habits of obedience consisted in 
discouraging disobedience by connecting some certain, 
though mild and gentle disadvantage, inconvenience, or 
penalty, with every transgression. In this chapter is to 
be considered another mode, which is in some respects the 
converse of the first, inasmuch as it consists in the encour- 
agement of obedience, by often — not necessarily always — 
connecting with it some advantage, or gain, or pleasure; 
or, as it may be stated summarily, the cautious encourage- 
ment of obedience by rewards. 

This method of action is more diflScult than the other in 
the sense that it requires more skill, tact, and delicacy of 
perception and discrimination to carry it successfully into 
effect. The other demands only firm, but gentle and steady 
persistence. If the penalty, however slight it may be, al- 
ways comes, the effect will take care of itself. But judi- 
ciously to administer a system of rewards, or even of com- 
mendations, requires tact, discrimination, and skill. It re- 
quires some observation of the peculiar characteristics of 
the different minds acted upon, and of the effects produced, 
and often some intelligent modification of the measures is 
required, to fit them to varying circumstances and times. 

Obedience must not he JBought. 

If the bestowing of commendation and rewards is made 
a matter of mere Wind routine, as the assigning of gentle 

D2 



83 GENTLE JIEASUHES. 

penalties may be, the result will become a mere system of 
bribing, or rather paying children to be good ; and good- 
ness that is bought, if it deserves tlie name of virtue at all, 
is certainly virtue of a very inferior quality. 

Whether a reward conferred for obedience shall operate 
as a bribe, or rather as a price paid — for a h^ibe, strictly 
speaking, is a price paid, not for doing right, but for doing 
wrong — depends sometimes on very slight differences in 
the management of the' particular case — differences which 
an undiscriminating mother will not be very ready to ap- 
preciate. 

A mother, for example, going into the village on a sum- 
mer afternoon, leaves her children playing in the yard, un- 
der the general charge of Susan, who is at work in the 
kitchen, whence she can observe them from time to time 
through the open window. She thinks the children will 
be safe, provided they remain in the yard. The only thing 
to be guarded against is the danger that they may go out 
through the gate into the road. 

Tico Different Modes of Management. 

Under some circumstances, as, for example, where the 
danger to which they would be exposed in going into the 
road was very great, or where the mother can not rely 
upon her power to control her children's conduct by moral 
means in any way, the only safe method would be to fasten 
the gate. But if she prefers to depend for their safety 
on their voluntary obedience to her commands, and wishes, 
moreover, to promote the spirit of obedience by rewarding 
rather than punishing, she can make her rewards of the na- 
ture of hire or not, according to her mode of management. j. 

If she wishes to hire obedience, she has only to say to 
the children that she is going into the village for a little 
time, and that they may play in the yard while she is gone, 



HEWARDING OBEDIENCE. 83 

but must not go out of the gate ; adding, that she is going 
to bring home some oranges or candies, which she will give 
them if she finds that they have obeyed her, but which she 
will not give them if they have disobeyed. 

Such a promise, provided the children have the double 
confidence in their mother which such a method requires — 
namely, first, a full belief that she will really bring home 
the promised rewards, if they obey her; and secondly — 
and this is a confidence much less frequently felt by chil- 
dren, and much less frequently deserved by their mothers 
— a conviction that, in case they disobey, no importunities 
on their part or promises for the next time will induce their 
mother to give them the good things, but that the rewards 
will certainly be lost to them unless they are deserved, ac- 
cording to the conditions of the promise — in such a case — 
that is, when this double confidence exists, the promise will 
have great influence upon the children. Still, it is, in its 
nature, hiring them to obey. I do not say that this is nec- 
essarily a bad plan, though I think there is a better. Chil- 
dren may, perhaps, be trained gradually to habits of obe- 
dience by a system of direct rewards, and in a manner, too, 
far more agreeable to the parent and better for the child 
than by a system of compulsion through threats and pun- 
ishment. 

The Method of Indirect Rewarding, 
But there is another way of connecting pleasurable ideas 
and associations with submission to parental authority in 
the minds of children, as a means of alluring them to the 
habit of obedience — one that is both more efficient in its 
results and more healthful and salutary in its action than 
the practice of bestowing direct recompenses and rewards. 
Suppose, for example, in the case above described, the 
tiother, on leaving the children, simply gives them the 



84 GENTLE MEASURES. 

command that they are not to leave the yard, but makes 
no promises, and then, on returning from the village with 
the bonbons in her bag, simply asks Susan, when she comes 
in, whether the children have obeyed her injunction not to 
leave the yard. If Susan says yes, she nods to them, with 
a look of satisfaction and pleasure, and adds : " I thought 
they would obey me. I am very glad. Now I can trust 
them again." 

Then, by-and-by, towards the close of the day, perhaps, 
and when the children suppose that the affair is forgotten, 
she takes an opportunity to call them to her, saying that 
she has something to tell them. 

" You remember when I went to the village to-day I left 
you in the yard and said that you must not go out of the 
gate, and you obeyed. Perhaps you would have liked to 
go out into the road and play there, but you would not 
go because I had forbidden it. I am very glad that you 
obeyed. I thought of you when I was in the village, and I 
thought you would obey me. I felt quite safe about you. 
If you had been disobedient children, I should have felt 
uneasy and anxious. But I felt safe. When I had finished 
ray shopping, I thought I would buy you some bonbons, 
and here they are. You can go and sit down together on 
the carpet and divide them. Mary can choose one, and 
then Jane; then Mary, and then Jane again; and so on 
until they are all chosen." 

Difference hi the Character of the Effects. 

It may, perhaps, be said by the reader that this is sub- 
stantially the same as giving a direct reward for the obe- 
dience. I admit that it is in some sense substantially the 
same thing, but it is not the same in form. And this is 
one of those cases where the effect is modified veiy greatly 
by the form. Where children are directly promised a re- 



RE WARDING OBEDIENCE. 85 

ward if they do so and so, they naturally regard the trans- 
action as of the nature of a contract or a bargain, such that 
when they have fulfilled the conditions on their part the 
reward is their due, as, indeed, it really is ; and they come 
and demand it as such. The tendency, then, is, to divest 
their minds of all sense of obligation in respect to doing 
right, and to make them feel that it is in some sense op- 
tional with them whether to do right and earn the reward, 
or not to do right and lose it. 

In the case, however, last described, which seems at first 
view to differ only in form from the preceding one, the 
commendation and the bonbons w^ould be so connected 
with the act of obedience as to associate very agreeable 
ideas with it in the children's minds, and thus to make 
doing right appear attractive to them on future occasions, 
while, at the same time, they would not in any degree de- 
prive the act itself of its spontaneous character, as resulting 
from a sense of duty on their part, or produce the impres* 
sion on their minds that their remaining within the gate 
was of the nature of a service rendered to their mother for 
hire, and afterwards duly paid for. 

The lesson which we deduce from this illustration and 
the considerations connected with it may be stated as fol- 
lows: 

The General Principle. 

That the rewards conferred upon children with a view 
of connecting pleasurable ideas and associations wnth good 
conduct should not take the form of compensations stip- 
ulated for beforehand, and then conferred according to 
agreement, as if they were of the nature of payment for a 
service rendered, but should come as the natural expres- 
sion of the satisfaction and happiness felt by the mother 
in the good conduct of her child — expressions as free and 



86 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Spontaneous on her part as the good conduct was on the 
part of the child. 

The mother who understands the full import of this 
principle, and whose mind becomes fully possessed of it, 
will find it constantly coming into practical use in a thou- 
sand ways. She has undertaken, for example, to teach her 
little son to read. Of course learning to read is irksome 
to him. He dislikes extremely to leave his play and come 
to take his lesson. Sometimes a mother is inconsiderate 
enough to be pained at this. She is troubled to find that 
her boy takes so little interest in so useful a work, and 
even, perhaps, scolds him, and threatens him for not loving 
study. " If you don't learn to read," she says to him, in 
a tone of irritation and displeasure, " you will grow up a 
dunce, and every body will laugh at you, and you will be 
ashamed to be seen." 

GhildrevbS Difficulties. 

But let her imagine that she herself was to be called 
away two or three times a day, for half an hour, to study 
Chinese, w^ith a very exacting teacher, always more or less 
impatient and dissatisfied with her progress; and yet the 
irksomeness and difficulty for the mother, in learning to 
decipher Chinese, would be as nothing compared with that 
of the child in learning to read. The only thing that could 
make the work even tolerable to the mother would be a 
pretty near, distinct, and certain prospect of going to Chi- 
na under circumstances that would make the knowledge 
of great advantage to her. But the child has no such near, 
distinct, and certain prospect of the advantages of knowing 
how to read. He has scarcely any idea of these advantages 
at all. You can describe them to him, but the description 
will have no perceptible effect upon his mind. Those fac- 
ulties by which we bring the future vividly before us so as 



REWARDING OBEDIENCE. ' 87 

to influence our present action, are not yet developed. His 
cerebral organization hrs not yet advanced to that condi' 
tion, any more than his bones have advanced to the hard- 
ness, rigidness, and strength of manhood. His mind is only 
capable of being influenced strongly by what is present, or, 
at least, very near. It is the design of Divine Providence 
that this should be so. The child is not made to look for- 
ward much yet, and the mother who is pained and distress- 
ed because he will not look forward, shows a great igno- 
rance of the nature of the infantile mind, and of the man- 
ner of its development. If she finds fault with her boy 
for not feeling distinctly enough the future advantages of 
learning to lead him to love study now, she is simply find- 
ing fault with a boy for not being possessed of the most 
slowly developed faculties of a man. 

The way, then, to induce children to attend to such duties 
as learning to read, is not to reason with them on the ad- 
vantages of it, but to put it simply on the ground of au- 
thority. " It is very irksome, I know, but you must do it. 
When you are at play, and having a very pleasant time, I 
know very well that it is hard for you to be called away to 
puzzle over your letters and your reading. It was very 
hard for me when I 'was a child. It is very hard for all 
children ; but then it must be done." 

The way in this, as in all other similar cases, to reduce 
the irksomeness of disagreeable duties to a minimum is 
not to attempt to convince or persuade the child, but to 
put the performance of them simply on the ground of sub- 
mission to authority. The child must leave his play and 
come to take his lesson, not because he sees that it is bet- 
ter for him to learn to read than to play all the time, nor 
because he is to receive a reward in the form of compensa- 
tion, but because his mother requires him to do it. 



88 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Indirect Rewarding, 

If, therefore, she concludes, in order to connect agreeable 
ideas with the hard work of learning to read, that she will 
often, at the close of the lessons, tell him a little story, or 
show him a picture, or have a frolic with him, or give him 
a piece of candy or a lump of sugar, or bestow upon him 
any other little gratification, it is better not to promise 
these things beforehand, so as to give to the coming of the 
child, when called, the character of a service rendered for 
hire. Let him come simply because he is called ; and then 
let the gratifications be bestowed as the expressions of his 
mother's satisfaction and happiness, in view of her boy's 
ready obedience to her commands and faithful perform- 
ance of his duty. 

Obedience, though Implicit, need not he Blind. 

It must not be supposed from what has been said that 
because a mother is not to rely upon the reason and fore- 
cast of the child in resj^ect to future advantages to accrue 
from efforts or sacrifices as motives of present action, that 
she is not to employ the influence of these motives at all. 
It is true that those faculties of the mind by which we ap- 
prehend distant things and govern our conduct by them 
are not yet developed in the child ; but they are to he de- 
veloped, and the aid of the parent will be of the greatest 
service in i3romoting the development of them. At proper 
times, then, the pleasures and advantages of knowing how 
to read should be described to the child, and presented 
moreover in the most attractive form. The proper time 
for doing this would be when no lesson is in question — 
during a ride or a walk, or in the midst of a story, or 
while looking at a book of pictures. A most improper 
time would be when a command had been given and was 



REWAMDINQ OBEDIEXCE. 89 

disregarded, or was reluctantly obeyed ; for then such rep- 
resentations would only tend to enfeeble the principle of 
authority by bringing in the influence of reasonings and 
persuasions to make up for its acknowledged inefficiency. 
It is one of those cases where a force is weakened by rein- 
forcement — as a plant, by being long held up by a stake, 
comes in the end not to be able to stand alone. 

So a mother can not in any way more effectually under- 
mine her authority, as authority, than by attempting to eke 
out its force by arguments and coaxings. 

Authority not to he made 02^2^ressive. 

While the jDarent must thus take care to establish the 
princi2yle of authority as the ground of obedience on the 
part of his children, and must not make their doing what 
he requires any the less acts of obedience, through vainly 
attempting to diminish the hardship of obeying a command 
by mingling the influence of reasonings and persuasions 
with it, he may in other ways do all in his power — and 
that will be a great deal — to make the acts of obedience 
easy, or, at least, to diminish the difficulty of them and the 
severity of the trial which they often bring to the child. 

One mode by which this may be done is by not spring- 
ing disagreeable obligations upon a child suddenly, but by 
giving his mind a little time to form itself to the idea of 
what is to come. When Johnny and Mary are playing to- 
gether happily with their blocks upon the floor, and are, 
perhaps, just completing a tower which they have been 
building, if their mother comes suddenly into the room, an- 
nounces to them abruptly that it is time for them to go to 
bed, throws down the tower and brushes the blocks into 
the basket, and then hurries the children away to the un- 
dressing, she gives a sudden and painful shock to theii; 
whole nervous system, and greatly increases the disappoint- 



90 GENTLE MEASURES. 

ment and pain which they experience in being obliged to 
give up their play. The delay of a single minute would be 
sufficient to bring their minds round easily and gently into 
submission to the necessity of the case. If she comes to 
them with a smile, looks upon their work a moment with 
an expression of interest and pleasure upon her counte- 
nance, and then says, 

" It is bed-time, children, but I would like to see you fin- 
ish your tower." 

One minute of delay like this, to soften the suddenness 
of the transition, will make the act of submission to the 
necessity of giving up play and going to bed, in obedience 
to the mother's command, comparatively easy, instead of 
being, as it very likely would otherwise have been, extreme- 
ly vexatious and painful. 

Give a Little Time. 

In the same way, in bringing to a close an evening party 
of children at play, if the lady of the house comes a little 
before the time and says to them that after " one more 
play," or " two more plays," as the case may be, " the party 
must come to an end," the closing of it would be made 
easy ; while by waiting till the hour had come, and then 
suddenly interrupting the gayety, perhaps in the middle of 
a game, by the abrupt announcement to the children that 
the clock has struck, and they must stop their plays and be- 
gin to get ready to go home, she brings upon them a sud- 
den shock of painful surprise, disappointment, and, perhaps, 
irritation. 

So, if children are to be called away from their play for 
any purpose whatever, it is always best to give them a lit- 
tle notice, if it be only a moment's notice, beforehand. 
" John, in a minute or two I shall wish you to go and get 
some wood. You can be getting your things ready to be 



BE WARDING OBEDIENCE. 91 

left." "Mary, it is almost time for your lesson. You 
had better put Dolly to sleep and lay her in the cradle." 
"Boys, in ten minutes it will be time for you to go to 
school. So do not begin any new whistles, but only finish 
what you have begun." 

On the same principle, if boys are at play in the open air 
—at ball, or skating, or flying kites — and are to be recalled 
by a bell, obedience to the call will be made much more 
easy to them by a preliminary signal, as a warning, given 
five minutes before the time. 

Of course, it will not always be convenient to give these 
signals and these times of preparation. Nor will it be al- 
ways necessary to give them. To determine how and in 
what cases it is best to apply the principle here explained 
will require some tact and good judgment on the part of 
the parent. It would be folly to lay down a rigid rule of 
this kmd to be considered as always obligatory. All that 
is desirable is that the mother should understand the prin- 
ciple, and that she should apply it as far as she convenient- 
ly and easily can do so. She will find in practice that when 
she once appreciates the value of it, and observes its kind 
and beneficent working, she will find it convenient and easy 
to apply it far more generally than she would suppose. 

JSfo wedkenmg of Authority in this. 

It is very plain that softening thus the hardship for the 
child of any act of obedience required of him by giving 
him a little time implies no abatement of the authority of 
the parent, nor does it detract at all from the implicitness 
of the obedience on the part of the child. The submission 
to authority is as complete in doing a thing in five minutes 
if the order was to do it in five minutes, as in doing it at 
once if the order was to do it at once. And the mother 
must take great care, when thus trying to make obedience 



93 GENTLE MEASURES. 

more easy by allowing time, that it should be prompt and 
absolute when the time has expired. 

The idea is, that though the parent is bound fully to 
maintain his authority over his children, in all its force, he 
is also bound to make the exercise of it as little irksome 
and painful to them as possible, and to prevent as much as 
possible the pressure of it from encroaching upon their ju- 
venile joys. He must insist inexorably on being obeyed ; 
but he is bound to do all in his power to make the yoke of 
obedience light and easily to be borne. 

Injiv.ence on the healthful Devielopmtnt of the Bram. 

Indeed, besides the bearing of these views on the happi- 
ness of the children, it is not at all improbable that the 
question of health may be seriously involved in them. For, 
however certain Ave may be of the immateriality of the 
soul in its essence, it is a perfectly well established fact 
that all its operations and functions, as an animating spirit 
in the human body, are fulfilled through the workings of 
material organs in the brain; that these organs are in 
childhood in an exceedingly immature, tender, and delicate 
condition ; and that all sudden, sharp, and, especially, pain- 
ful emotions, greatly excite, and sometimes cruelly irritate 
them. 

When we consider how seriously the action of the di- 
gestive organs, in persons in an ordinary state of health, is 
often interfered with by mental anxiety or distress ; how 
frequently, in persons subject to headaches, the paroxysm is 
brought on by worryings or perplexities endured incident- 
ally on the preceding day ; and especially how often violent 
and painful emotions, when they are extreme, result in de- 
cided and sometimes in permanent and hopeless insanity — 
that is, in an irreparable damage to some delicate mechan- 
ism in the brain — we shall see that there is every reason for 



EEWARBING OBEDIENCE. 93 

supposing that all sudden shocks to the nervous system of 
children, all violent and painful excitements, all vexations 
and irritations, and ebullitions of ill-temper and anger, have 
a tendency to disturb the healthy development of the cere- 
bral organs, and may, in many cases, seriously affect the fu- 
ture health and welfare, as well as the present happiness, of 
the child. 

It is true that mental disturbances and agitations of this 
kind can not be wholly avoided. But they should be 
avoided as far as possible; and the most efficient means 
for avoiding them is a firm, though calm and gentle, estab- 
lishment and maintenance of parental authority, and not, 
as many mothers very mistakingly imagine, by unreason- 
able indulgences, and by endeavors to manage their chil- 
dren by persuasions, bribings, and manoeuvrings, instead of 
by commands. The most indulged children, and the least 
governed, are always the most petulant and irritable ; while 
a strong government, if regular, uniform, and jast, and if 
administered by gentle measures, is the most effectual of 
all possible instrumentalities for surrounding childhood 
with an atmosphere of calmness and peace. 

In a word, while the mother is bound to do all in her 
power to render submission to her authority easy and 
agreeable to her children, by softening as much as possible 
the disappointment and hardship which her commands 
sometimes occasion, and by connecting pleasurable ideas 
and sensations with acts of obedience on the part of the 
child, she must not at all relax the authority itself, but 
must maintain it under all circumstances in its full force, 
with a very firm and decided, though still gentle hand. 



9i GENTLE MEASURES. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE ART OF TRAINING. 

It is very clear that the most simple and the most obyi- 
oas of the modes by which a parent may establish among 
his children the habit of submission to his authority, are 
those which have been already described, namely, punish- 
ments and rewards — punishments, gentle in their character, 
but invariably enforced, as the sure results of acts of in- 
subordination ; and rewards for obedience, occasionally and 
cautiously bestowed, in such a manner that they may be 
regarded as recognitions simply, on the part of the parent, 
of the good conduct of his children, and expressions of his 
gratification, and not in the light of payment or hire. 
These are obviously the most simple modes, and the ones 
most ready at hand. They require no exalted or unusual 
qualities on the part of father or mother, unless, indeed, 
we consider gentleness, combined with firmness and good 
sense, as an assemblage of rare and exalted qualities. To 
assign, and firmly and uniformly to enforce, just but gentle 
penalties for disobedience, and to recognize, and sometimes 
reward, special acts of obedience and submission, are meas- 
ures fully w^ithin the reach of every parent, however hum- 
ble may be the condition of his intelligence or his attain- 
ments of knowledge. 

Another Class of Influences. 

There is, however, another class of influences to be adopt- 
ed, not as a substitute for these simple measures, but in 
connection and co-operation with them, which will be far 



THE ART OF TRAINING. 95 

more deep, powerfulj and permanent in their results, though 
they require much higher quahties in the parent for car- 
rying them successfully into effect. This higher method 
consists in a systematic effort to develop in the mind of 
the child a love of the principle of obedience^ by express 
and appropriate training. 

Parents not aware of the Extent of their Responsibility, 
Many parents, perhaps indeed nearly all, seem, as we 
have already shown, to act as if they considered the duty 
of obedience on the part of their children as a matter of 
course. They do not expect their children to read or to 
write without being taught ; they do not expect a dog to 
fetch and carry, or a horse to draw and to understand 
commands and signals, without being trained. In all these 
cases they perceive the necessity of training and instruc- 
tion, and understand that the initiative is with them. If a 
horse, endowed by nature with average good qualities, does 
not work well, the fault is attributed at once to the man 
who undertook to train him. But what mother, when her 
child, grown large and strong, becomes the trial and sor- 
row of her life by his ungovernable disobedience and in- 
subordination, takes the blame to herself in reflectino^ that 
he was placed in her hands when all the powers and facul- 
ties of his soul were in embryo, tender, pliant, and unresist- 
ing, to be formed and fashioned at her will ? 

The Spirit of filial Obedience not Instinctive. 

Children, as has already been remarked, do not require 
to be taught and trained to eat and drink, to resent inju- 
ries, to cling to their possessions, or to run to their mother 
in danger or pain. They have natural instincts which pro- 
vide for all these things. But to speak, to read, to write, 
and to calculate; to tell the truth, and to obey their par- 



iJO GENTLE MEASURES. 

ents; to forgive injuries, to face bravely fancied dangers 
and bear patiently unavoidable pain, are attainments for 
which no natural instincts can adequately provide. There 
are instincts that will aid in the work, but none that can of 
themselves be relied upon without instruction and training. 
In actual fact, children usually receive their instruction and 
training in respect to some of these things incidentally — as 
it happens — by the rough knocks and frictions, and various 
painful experiences which they encounter in the early years 
of life. In respect to others, the guidance and aid afforded 
them is more direct and systematic. Unfortunately the es- 
tablishment in their minds of the principle of obedience 
comes ordinarily under the former category. No system- 
atic and appropriate efforts are made by the parent to im- 
plant it. It is left to the uncertain and fitful influences 
of accident — to remonstrances, reproaches, and injunctions 
called forth under sudden excitement in the various emer- 
gencies of domestic discipline, and to other means, vague, 
capricious, and uncertain, and having no wise adaptedness 
to the attainment of the end in view. 

Requires appropriate Training. 

How much better and more successfully the object would 
be accomplished if the motlicr were to imderstand distinct- 
ly at the outset that the work of training her children to 
the habit of submission to her authority is a duty, the re- 
sponsibility of which devolves not upon her children, but 
upon her; that it is a duty, moreover, of the highest im- 
portance, and one that demands careful consideration, much 
forethought, and the wise adaptation of means to the end. 

Methods. 

The first thought of some parents may possibly be, that 
they do not know of any other measures to take in order 



THE ART OF TRAINING. 97 

to teach their cliildren submission to their authority, than 
to reward them when they obey and punish them when 
they disobey. To show that there are other methods, we 
will consider a particular case. 

Mary, a young lady of seventeen, came to make a visit to 
her sister. She soon perceived that her sister's children, 
Adolphus and Lucia, were entirely ungoverned. Their 
mother coaxed, remonstrated, advised, gave reasons, said 
" I wouldn't do this," or " I wouldn't do that," — did every 
thing, in fact, except simply to command ; and the chil- 
dren, consequently, did pretty much what they pleased. 
Their mother w^ondered at their disobedience and insub- 
ordination, and in cases where these faults resulted in spe- 
cial inconvenience for herself she bitterly reproached the 
children for their undutiful behavior. But the reproaches 
produced no effect. 

"The first thing that I have to do," said Mary to herself, 
in observing this state of things, " is to teach the children 
to obey — at least to obey me. I will give them their first 
lesson at once." 

Mary tnaJccs a Beginning. 

So she proposed to them to go out with her into the gar- 
den and show her the flowers, adding that if they would do 
so she would make each of them a bouquet. She could 
make them some very pretty bouquets, she said, provided 
they would help her, and would follow her directions and 
obey her implicitly while gathering and arranging the flow- 
ers. 

This the children promised to do, and Mary went M'ith 
them into the garden. There, as she passed about from 
border to border, she gave them a great many different 
directions in respect to things which they were to do, or 
which they were not to do. She gathered flowers, and 

E 



98 GENTLE MEASURES. 

gave some to one child, and some to the other, to be held 
and carried — with special instructions in respect to many 
details, such as directing some flowers to be put together, 
and others to be kept separate, and specifying in what man- 
ner they were to be held or carried. Then she led them to 
a bower where there was a long seat, and explained to them 
how they were to lay the flowers in order upon the seat, 
and directed them to be very careful not to touch them 
after they were once laid down. They were, moreover, to 
leave a place in the middle of the seat entirely clear. They 
asked what that was for. Mary said that they would see 
by-and-by. "You must always do just as I say," she add- 
ed, " and perhaps I shall explain the reason afterwards, or 
perhaps you will see what the reason is yourselves." 

After going on in this way until a sufficient number and 
variety of flowers were collected, Mary took her seat in the 
vacant place which had been left, and assigned the two por- 
tions of the seat upon which the flowers had been placed 
to the children, giving each the charge of the flowers upon 
one portion, with instructions to select and give to her siich 
as she should call for. From the flowers thus brought she 
formed two bouquets, one for each of the children. Then 
she set them both at work to make bouquets for them- 
selves, giving them minute and special directions in regard 
to every step. If her object had been to cultivate their 
taste and judgment, then it would have been better to 
allow them to choose the flowers and determine the ar- 
rangement for themselves ; but she was teaching them ohe- 
dieiice^ or, rather, beginning to form in them the hahit of 
obedience; and so, the more numerous and minute the 
commands the better, provided that they were not in them- 
selves unreasonable, nor so numerous and minute as to be 
vexatious, so as to incur any serious danger of their not be- 
ing readily and good-humored ly obeyed. 



THE ART OF TRAINING. 101 

When the bouquets were finished Mary gave the cliil- 
dren, severally, the two which had been made for them ; and 
the two which they had made for themselves she took into 
the house and placed them in glasses upon the parlor man- 
tel-piece, and then stood back with the children in the mid- 
dle of the room to admire them. 

" See how pretty they look ! And how nicely the work 
went on while we were making them ! That was because 
you obeyed me so well while we were doing it. You did 
exactly as I said in every thing." 

A Beginning only. 

Now this was an excellent first lesson in training the 
children to the habit of obedience. It is true that it was 
onlg a first lesson. It was a beginning, but it was a very 
good beginning. If, on the following day, Mary had given 
the children a command which it would *be irksome to them 
to obey, or one which would have called for any special sac- 
rifice or self-denial on their part, they would have disre- 
garded it. Still they would have been a little less inclined 
to disregard it than if they had not received their first les- 
son ; and there can be no doubt that if Mary were to con- 
tinue her training in the same spirit in which she com- 
menced it she would, before many weeks, acquire a com- 
plete ascendency over them, and make them entirely sub- 
missive to her will. 

And yet this is a species of training the efficacy of which 
depends on influences in which the hope of reward or the 
fear of punishment does not enter. The bouquets were not 
promised to the children at the outset, nor were they given 
to them at last as rewards. It is true that they saw the 
advantages resulting from due subordination of the inferi- 
ors to the superior in concerted action, and at the end they 
felt a satisfaction in having acted right; but these advau* 



103 GENTLE MEASURES. 

tages did not come in the form of rewards. The efficacy 
of the lesson depended on a different principle altogether. 

The Philosophy of it. 

The philosophy of it was this : Mary, knowing that the 
principle of obedience in the children was extremely weak, 
and that it could not stand any serious test, contrived to 
bring it into exercise a great many times under the light- 
est possible pressure. She called upon them to do a great 
many different things, each of which was very easy to do, 
and gave them many little prohibitions which it required a 
very slight effort of self-denial on their part to regard ; and 
she connected agreeable associations in their minds with the 
idea of submission to authority, through the interest which 
she knew they would feel in seeing the work of gathering 
the flowers and making the bouquets go systematically and 
prosperously on, and through the commendation of their 
conduct which she expressed at the end. 

Such persons as Mary do not analyze distinctly, in their 
thoughts, nor could they express in words, the principles 
which underlie their management; but they have an in- 
stinctive mental perception of the adaptation of such means 
to the end in view. Other people, who observe how easily 
and quietly they seem to obtain an ascendency over all chil- 
dren coming within their influence, and how absolute this 
ascendency often becomes, are frequently surprised at it. 
They think there is some mystery about it ; they say it is 
" a knack that some people have ;" but there is no mystery 
about it at all, and nothing unusual or strange, except so 
far as practical good sense, considerate judgment, and in- 
telligent observation and appreciation of the characteristics 
of childhood are unusual and strange. 

Mary was aware that, although the principle of obedience 
is seldom or never entirely obliterated from the hearts of 



THE ART OF TRAININO. 103 

children — that is, that the impression upon their minds, 
which, though it may not be absolutely instinctive, is very 
early acquired, that it is incumbent on them to obey those 
set in authority over them, is seldom wholly effaced, the 
sentiment had become extremely feeble in the minds of 
Adolphus and Lucia ; and that it was like a frail and dy- 
ing plant, which required very delicate and careful nurture 
to quicken it to life and give it its normal health and vigor. 
Her management was precisely of this character. It called 
the weak and feeble principle into gentle exercise, without 
putting it to any severe test, and thus commenced the for- 
mation of a habit of action. Any one will see that a course 
of training on these principles, patiently and perseveringly 
continued for the proper time, could not fail of securing 
the desired end, except in cases of children characterized 
by unusual and entirely abnormal perversity. 

We can not here follow in detail the various modes in 
which such a manager as Mary would adapt her principle 
to the changing incidents of each day, and to the different 
stages of progress made by her pupils in learning to obey, 
but can only enumerate certain points worthy of the atten- 
tion of parents who may feel desirous to undertake such a 
work of training. 

Three practical Directions. 

1. Relinquish entirely the idea of expecting children to 
be spontaneously docile and obedient, and the practice of 
scolding or punishing them vindictively when they are 
not so. Instead of so doing, understand that docility and 
obedience on their part is to be the result of wise, careful, 
and persevering, though gentle training on the part of the 
parent. 

2. If the children have already formed habits of disobe- 
dience and insubordination, do not expect that the desira- 



IU4 (IblNTLK MICAHVUEH. 

blc change) ('.'in l)o (iffoctcd by Huddoii, Hpasrnodic, and v'k> 
lont (vflorls, ;i(u()iii|>;iiii('(l by dominciutionH and threats, and 
d(!clarat/K)iiM lli;it. you •m(\ going to " turn over a new leaf." 
'rh(! atteinj)!, to cliangi! pcrvcM'tod tendencies in children by 
HU(;h nieanH i.s like trying to Ktraighten a bend In the stem 
of a growing tree by blows with a hammer. 

n. Instead of this, Ix'gin without saying at all what you 
are going to do, or rniding any fault with the j)aHt, and, 
with a, d' lincl, re(H>gnition ol the fact that wliatever is 
bad in th(! 'n.atlne toukiirlcH of your children's minds is 
])robably inheril,ed from their pai'cnts, and, i)erhaj)s, specially 
from yourself, and that whatevcir is wrong in their habits 
of action, is (Uirtainly Uk; result of bad training, proceed 
cautiously and gently, })ut jx^rscvcringly and firmly, in 
\)ringing tlu; bent Mvin giadually up to tlu; right })Osition. 
In doing this, there is no amount of ingenuity and skill, 
)iowever great, that may not be usefully employed ; nor 
Is there, ou the other hand, except in very rare and excep- 
tional cases, any |)arent who has an allotment so small as 
not to be suiricieiii to ae(romplish the end, if conscientiously 
and falthfidly em])loyed. 



METHODS EXEMrLIFIKD. 105 



CHAPTER VIII. 

METHODS KXEMPLIFIED. 

In order to give a more clear idea of what I mean by 
forming liabits of obedience in children by methodH oilier 
than those connected with a system of rewards and j)un- 
ishnients, I will specify some such methods, introducing 
them, liowever, only as illustrations of what is intended. 
For, while in resi)ect to rewards and punishments some- 
thing like special and definite rules and directions may be 
given, these other methods, as they depend on the tact, in- 
genuity, and inventive powers of the parents for theii* suc- 
cess, depend also in great measure upon these same qual- 
ities for the discovery of them. The only help that can 
be received from without must consist of suggestions and 
illustrations, which can only serve to communicate to the 
mind some general ideas in respect to them. 

Recognizing t/ie llight. 

1. A very excellent effect is produced in forming haVjits 
of obedience in children, by simply noticing their good 
conduct when they do right, and letting them see that you 
notice it. When children are at play upon the carpet, and 
their mother from time to time calls one of them — Mary, 
we will say — to come to her to render some little servi(;e, it 
is very often the case that she is accustomed, when Mary 
obeys the call at once, leaving her play immediately and 
coming directly, to say nothing about the prompt obedi- 
ence, but to treat it as a matter of course. It is only in 
the cases of failure that she seems to notice the action. 

E2 



106 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Wlien Mary, greatly interested in what for the moment 
she is doingj delays her coming, she says, " You ought to 
come at once, Mary, when I call you, and not make me w^ait 
in this way." In the cases when Mary did come at once, 
she had said nothing. 

Mary goes back to her play after the reproof, a little dis- 
turbed in mind, at any rate, and perhaps considerably out 
of humor. 

Now Mary may, perhaps, be in time induced to obey 
more promptly under this management, but she will have 
no heart in making the improvement, and she will advance 
reluctantly and slowly, if at all. But if, at the first time 
that she comes promptly, and then, after doing the errand, 
is ready to go back to her play, her mother says, " You left 
your play and came at once when I called you. That was 
right. It i^leases me very much to find that I can depend 
upon your being so prompt, even when you are at play," 
Mary will go back to her play pleased and happy ; and the 
tendency of the incident will be to cause her to feel a spon- 
taneous and cordial interest in the principle of prompt obe- 
dience in time to come. 

Johnny is taking a walk through the fields with his 
mother. He sees a butterfly and sets off in chase of it. 
When he has gone away from the path among the rocks 
and bushes as far as his mother thinks is safe, she calls him 
to come back. In many cases, if the boy does not come at 
once in obedience to such a call, he would perhaps receive 
a scolding. If he does come back at once, nothing is said. 
In either case no decided effect would be produced upon 
him. 

But if his mother says, " Johnny, you obeyed me at once 
when I called you. It must be hard, when you are after a 
butterfly and think you have almost caught liim, to stojD 
immediately and come back to your mother when she calls 



METHODS EXEMPLIFIED. 107 

you; but you did it," Johnny will be led by this treat- 
ment to feel a desire to come back more promptly still the 
next time. 

A Caution. 

Of course there is an endless variety of ways by which 
you can show your children that you notice and appreciate 
the efforts they make to do right. Doubtless there is a 
danger to be guarded against. To adopt the practice of 
noticing and commending what is right, and paying no at- 
tention whatever to what is wrong, would be a great per- 
version of this counsel. There is a danger more insidious 
than this, but still very serious and real, of fostering a feel- 
ing of vanity and self-conceit by constant and inconsiderate 
praise. These things must be guarded against ; and to se- 
cure the good aimed at, and at the same time to avoid the 
evil, requires the exercise of the tact and ingenuity which 
has before been referred to. But with proper skill and 
proper care the habit of noticing and commending, or even 
noticing alone, when children do right, and of even being 
more quick to notice and to be pleased with the right than 
to detect and be dissatisfied with the wrong, will be found 
to be a very powerful means of training children in the 
right way. 

Children will act with a great deal more readiness and 
alacrity to preserve a good character which people already 
attribute to them, than to relieve themselves of the oppro- 
brium of a bad one with which they are charged. In oth- 
er words, it is much easier to allure them to what is right 
than to drive them from what is wrong. 

Giving Advice. 

2. There is, perhaps, nothing more irksome to children 
than to listen to advice given to them in a direct and sim- 



108 GENTLE MEASURES. 

pie form, and perhaps there is nothing that has less infill 
ence upon them in the formation of their characters than 
advice so given. And there is good reason for this; for 
either the advice must be general, and of course more or 
less abstract, when it is necessarily in a great measure lost 
upon them, since their powers of generalization and abstrac- 
tion are not yet developed ; or else, if it is practical and 
particular at all, it must be so with reference to their own 
daily experience in life — in which case it becomes more irk- 
some still, as they necessarily regard it as an indirect mode 
of fault-finding. Indeed, this kind of advice is almost cer- 
tain to assume the form of half-concealed fault-finding, for 
the subject of the counsel given would be, in almost all 
cases, suggested by the errors, or shortcomings, or failures 
which had been recently observed in the conduct of the 
children. The art, then, of giving to children general ad- 
vice and instruction in respect to their conduct and behav- 
ior, consists in making it definite and practical, and at the 
same time contriving some way of divesting it entirely of 
all direct appHcation to themselves in respect to XheiY past 
conduct. Of course, the more we make it practically appli- 
cable to them in respect to the future the better. 

There are various ways of giving advice of this charac- 
ter. It requires some ingenuity to invent them, and some 
degree of tact and skill to apply them successfully. But 
the necessary tact and skill would be easily acquired by 
any mother whose heart is really set upon finding gentle 
modes of leading her child into the path of duty. 

fTames and his Coiisms. 

James, going to spend one of his college vacations at his 
uncle's, was taken by his two cousins, Walter and Ann — 
eight and six years old — into their room. The room was 
all in confusion. There was a set of book-shelves upon one 



JSIETEODS EXEMPLIFIED. 109 

side, the books upou them lying tumbled about in all direc- 
tions. There was a case containing playthings in another 
place, the playthings broken and in disorder; and two ta- 
bles, one against the wall, and the other in the middle of 
the room, both covered with litter. Xow if James had 
commenced his conversation by giving the children a lec- 
ture on the disorder of their room, and on the duty, on 
their part, of taking better care of their things, the chief 
effect would very probably have been simply to prevent 
their wishins; to have him come to their room as^ain. 

But James managed the case differently. After going 
about the room for a few minutes with the children, and 
looking with them at their various treasures, and admiring 
what they seemed to admire, but without finding any fault, 
he sat down before the fire and took the children upon his 
lap — one upon each knee — and began to talk to them. 
Ann had one of her picture-books in her hand, some of the 
leaves torn, and the rest defaced with dog's-ears. 

" Now, Walter," said James, " I'm going to give you some 
advice. I am going to advise you what to do and how to 
act when you go to college. By-and-by you will grow to be 
a young man, and will then, perhaps, go to college." 

The idea of growing to be a young man and going to col- 
lege was very pleasing to Walter's imagination, and brought 
his mind into what may be called a receptive condition — 
that is, into a state to receive readily, and entertain Avith fa- 
vor, the thoughts which James was prepared to present. 

James then went on to draw a very agreeable picture of 
Walter's leaving home and going to college, with many de- 
tails calculated to be pleasing to his cousin's fancy, and 
came at length to his room, and to the circumstances un- 
der which he would take possession of it. Then he told 
him of the condition in which different scholars kept their 
respective rooms — how some were always in disorder, and 



110 GENTLE MEASURES. 

every thing in them topsy-turvy, so that they had no pleas- 
ant or home-like aspect at all ; while in others every thing 
was well arranged, and kept continually in that condition, 
so as to give the whole room, to every one who entered it, 
a very charming appearance. 

" The books on their shelves were all properly arranged," 
he said, " all standing up in order — those of a like size to- 
gether. Jump down, Ann, and go to your shelves, and ar- 
range the books on the middle shelf in that way, to show 
him what I mean." 

Ann jumped down, and ran with great alacrity to ar- 
range the books according to the directions. When she 
had arranged one shelf, she was proceeding to do the same 
with the next, but James said she need not do any more 
then. She could arrange the others, if she pleased, at an- 
other time, he said. "But come back now," he added, 
" and hear the rest of the advice." 

" I advise you to keep your book-shelves in nice order at 
college," he continued ; " and so with your apparatus and 
your cabinet. For at college, you see, you will perhaps 
have articles of philosophical apparatus, and a cabinet of 
specimens, instead of playthings. I advise you, if you 
should have such things, to keep them all nicely arranged 
upon their shelves." 

Here James turned his chair a littlcj so that he and the 
children could look towards the cabinet of playthings. 
Walter climbed down from his cousin's lap and ran off to 
that side of the room, and there began hastily to arrange 
the playthings. 

" Yes," said James, " that is the way. But never mind 
that now. I think you will know how to arrange your 
philosophical instruments and your cabinet very nicely 
when you are in college ; and you can keep your playthings 
in order in your room here, while you are a boy, if you 



METHODS EXEMPLIFIED. Ill 

please. But come back now and bear tbe rest of the ad- 



vice." 



So Walter came back and took his place again u^^on 
James's knee. 

"And I advise you," continued James, "to take good 
care of your books when you are in college. It is pleas- 
anter, at tbe time, to use books that are clean and nice, and 
then, besides, you will like to take your college books with 
you, after you leave college, and keep them as long as you 
live, as memorials of your early days, and you will value 
them a great deal more if they are in good order." 

Her^ Ann opened the book which was in her hand, and 
began to fold back the dog's-ears and to smooth down the 
leaves. 

The Principle Involved. 

In a word, by the simple expedient of shifting the time, 
in the imagination of the children, when the advice which 
he was giving them would come to its practical application, 
he divested it of all appearance of fault-finding in respect to 
their present conduct, and so secured not merely its ready 
admission, but a cordial welcome for it, in their minds. 

Any mother who sees and clearly apprehends the princi- 
ple here illustrated, and has ingenuity enough to avail her- 
self of it, will find an endless variety of modes by which 
she can make use of it, to g.nn easy access to the hearts of 
her children, for instructions and counsels which, when they 
come in the form of fault-finding advice, make no impres- 
sion whatever. 

Expectations of Results must he Heasonahle. 

Some persons, however, who read without much reflec- 
tion, and who do not clearly see the principle involved in 
the case above described, and do not understand it as it 



112 GENTLE MEASURES. 

is intended — that is, as a single specimen or example of a 
mode of action capable of an endless variety of applications, 
will perhaps say, " Oh, that was all very well. James's talk 
was very good for the purpose of amusing the children for 
a few minutes while he was visiting them, but it is idle to 
suppose that such a conversation could produce any per- 
manent or even lasting impression upon them; still less, 
that it could work any effectual change in resjDect to their 
habits of order." 

That is very true. In the work of forming the hearts 
aild minds of children it is "line upon line, and precept 
upon precept" that is required; and it can not be claimed 
that one such conversation as that of James is any thing 
more than one line. But it certainly is that. It would be 
as unreasonable to expect that one single lesson like that 
could effectually and completely accomplish the end in 
view, as that one single watering of a plant will suffice to 
enable it to attain completely its growth, and enable it to 
produce in perfection its fruits or its flowers. 

But if a mother often clothes thus the advice or instruc- 
tion which she has to give to her children in some imag- 
inative guise like this, advising them what to do when 
they are on a journey, for example, or w^hen they are mak- 
ing a visit at the house of a friend in the country ; or, in 
the case of a boy, what she would counsel him to do in case 
he were a young man employed by a farmer to help him 
on his farm, or a clerk in a store, or a sea-captain in charge 
of a ship, or a general commanding a force in the field ; or, 
if a girl, what dangers or what undesirable habits or ac- 
tions she should avoid when travelling in Europe, or when, 
as a young lady, she joins in picnics or goes on excursions, 
or attends concerts or evening parties, or in any of the 
countless other situations which it is pleasant for young 
persons to picture to their minds, introducing into all, so 



METHODS EXEMPLIFIED. 113 

far as her ingenuity and skill enable her to do it, interest- 
ing incidents and details, she will find that she is opening 
to herself an avenue to her children's hearts for the sound 
moral principles that she wishes to inculcate upon them, 
which she can often employ easily, pleasantly, and very 
advantageously, both to herself and to them. 

When a child is sick, it may be of little consequence 
whether the medicine which is required is agreeable or dis- 
agreeable to the taste. But with moral remedies the case 
is different. Sometimes the whole efficiency of the treat- 
ment administered as a corrective for a moral disorder de- 
pends upon the readiness and willingness with which it 
is taken. To make it disagreeable, consequently, in such 
cases, is to neutralize the intended action of it — a result 
which the methods described in this chapter greatly tend 
lO avoid. 



114 GENTLE MEASUEES. 



CHAPTER IX. 

DELLA AND THE DOLLS. 

This book may, perhaps, sometimes fall into the hands 
of persons who have, temporarily or otherwise, the charge 
of young children without any absolute authority over 
them, or any means, or even any right, to enforce their 
commands, as was the case, in fact, with the older brothers 
or sister referred to in the preceding illustrations. To 
such persons, these indirect modes of training children in 
habits of subordination to their will, or rather of yielding 
to their influence, are specially useful. Such persons may 
be interested in the manner in which Delia made use of 
the children's dolls as a means of guiding and governing 
their little mothers. 

Delia. 

Delia had a young sister named Maria, and a cousin 
whose name was Jane. Jane used often to come to make 
Maria a visit, and when together the children were accus- 
tomed to spend a great deal of time in playing with their 
dolls. Besides dressing and undressing them, and playing 
take them out to excursions and visits, they used to talk 
with them a great deal, and give them much useful and 
valuable information and instruction. 

Now Delia contrived to obtain a sjreat influence and as- 
cendency over the minds of the children by means of these 
dolls. She fell at once into the idea of the children in re- 
gard to them, and treated them always as if they were real 
persons ; often speaking of them and to them, in the pres' 



BELLA AND THE DOLLS. U1 

ence of the other children, in the most serious manner. 
This not only pleased the children very much, but enabled 
Delia, under pretense of talking to the dolls, to communi- 
cate a great deal of useful instruction to the children, and 
sometimes to make very salutary and lasting impressions 
upon their minds. 

Lectures to the Dolls. 

For instance, sometimes when Jane was making Maria a 
visit, and the two children came into her room with their 
dolls in their arms, she would speak to them as if they 
were real persons, and then taking them in her hands 
would set them before her on her knee, and give them a 
very grave lecture in respect to the proper behavior which 
they were to observe during the afternoon. If Delia had 
attempted to give precisely the same lecture to the chil- 
dren themselves, they would very soon have become rest- 
less and uneasy, and it would have made very little impres- 
sion upon them. But being addressed to the dolls, they 
would be greatly interested in it, and would listen with the 
utmost attention; and there is no doubt that the counsels 
and instructions which she gave made a much stronger 
impression upon their minds than if they had been ad- 
dressed directly to the children themselves. To give an 
idea of these conversations I will report one of them in 
full. 

" How do you do, my children ?" she said, on one such 
occasion. " I am very glad to see you. How nice you 
look ! You have come, Andella (Andella was the name of 
Jane's doll), to make Rosalie a visit. I am very glad. You 
will have a very pleasant time, I am sure ; because you nev- 
er quarrel. I observe that, when you both wish for the 
same thing, you don't quarrel for it and try to pull it away 
from one another 3 but one waits like a lady until the other 



118 OENTLE MEASURES. 

has done with it. I expect you have been a very good 
girl, Andella, since you were here last." 

Then, turning to Jane, she asked, in a somewhat altered 
tone, " Has she been a good girl, Jane ?" 

" She has been a pretty good girl," said Jane, " but she 
has been sick." 

"Ah!" said Delia in a tone of great concern, and look- 
ing again at Andella, "I heard that you had been sick. I 
heard that you had an attack of Aurora Borealis, or some- 
thing like that. And you don't look very well now. You 
must take good care of yourself, and if you don't feel well, 
you must ask your mother to bring you in to me and I will 
give you a dose of my medicine — my aqua saccharina. I 
know you always take your medicine like a little heroine 
when you are sick, without making any difficulty or trouble 
at all." 

Aqua saccharina was the Latin name which Delia gave 
to a preparation of which she kept a supply in a small phial 
on her table, ready to make-believe give to the dolls when 
they were sick. Maria and Jane were very fond of play- 
ing that their dolls were sick and bringing them to Delia 
for medicine, especially as Delia always recommended to 
them to taste the medicine themselves from a spoon first, 
in order to set their children a good example of taking it 
w^ell. 

Sometimes Delia would let the children take the phial 
away, so as to have it always at hand in case the dolls 
should be taken suddenly worse. But in such cases as this 
the attacks were usually so frequent, and the mothers were 
obliged to do so much tasting to encourage the patients, 
that the phial was soon brought back nearly or quite emp- 
ty, when Delia used to replenish it by filling it nearly full 
of water, and then pouring a sufficient quantity of the 
saccharine powder into the mouth of it from the sugar- 



DELIA AND THE DOLLS. 119 

bowl with a spoon. Nothing more was necessary except to 
shake up the mixture in order to facilitate the process of 
solution, and the medicine was ready. 

A Medium of Reproof . 

Delia was accustomed to use the dolls not only for the 
purpose of instruction, but sometimes for reproof, in many 
ingenious ways. For instance, one day the children had 
been playing upon the piazza with blocks and other play- 
things, and finally had gone into the house, leaving all the 
things on the floor of the piazza, instead of putting them 
away in their places, as they ought to have done. They 
were now playing with their dolls in the parlor. 

Delia came to the parlor, and with an air of great mys- 
tery beckoned the children aside, and said to them, in a 
whisper, "Leave Andella and Rosalie here, and don't say a 
word to them. I want you to come with me. There is a 
secret — something I would not have them know on any ac- 
count." 

So saying, she led the way on tiptoe, followed by the 
children out of the room, and round by a circuitous route 
to the piazza. 

" There !" said she, pointing to the playthings ; " see ! all 
your playthings left out ! Put them away quick before 
Andella and Rosalie see them. I would not have them 
know that their mothers leave their playthings about in 
that way for any consideration. They would think that 
they might do so too, and that would make you a great 
deal of trouble. You teach them, I have no doubt, that 
they must always put their playthings away, and they must 
see that you set them a good example. Put these play- 
things all away quick, and carefully, and we will not let 
them know any thing about your leaving them out." 

So the children went to work with great alacrity, and 



120 GENTLE MEASURES. 

put the playthings all away. And this method of treating 
the case was much more effectual in making them disposed 
to avoid committing a similar fault another time than any 
direct rebukes or expressions of displeasure addressed per- 
sonally to them would have been. 

Besides, a scolding would have made them unhappy, and 
this did not make them unhappy at all ; it amused and en- 
tertained them. If you can lead children to cure them- 
selves of their faults in such a way that they shall have a 
good time in doing it, there is a double gain. 

In due time, by this kind of management, and by other 
modes conceived and executed in the same spirit, Delia 
gained so great an ascendency over the children that they 
were far more ready to conform to her will, and to obey all 
her directions, than they would have been to submit to the 
most legitimate authority that was maintained, as such au- 
thority too often is, by fault-finding and threats, and with- 
out any sympathy with the fancies and feelings which reign 
over the hearts of the children in the little world in which 
they live. 



SYMPATRT. 1£1 



CHAPTER X. 

SYMPATHY:— I. THE CHILD WITH THE PARENT. 

The subject of sympathy between children and parents 
is to be considered in two aspects : first, that of the child 
with the parent ; and secondly, that of the parent with the 
child. That is to say, an emotion may be awakened in the 
child by its existence and manifestation in the parent, and 
secondly, it may be awakened in the parent by its existence 
in the child. 

We are all ready to acknowledge in words the gi'eat 
power and influence of sympathy, but very few are aware 
how very vast this power is, and how inconceivably great 
is the function which this principle fulfills in the formation 
of the human character, and in regulating the conduct of 
men. 

Mysterious Action of the Principle of Sympathy. 

There is a great mystery in the nature of it, and in the 
manner of its action. This we see very clearly in the sim- 
plest and most striking material form of it — the act of gap- 
ing. Why and how does the witnessing of the act of gap- 
ing in one person, or even the thought of it, produce a tend- 
ency to the same action in the nerves and muscles of an= 
other person? When we attempt to trace the chain of 
connection through the eye, the brain, and the thoughts — 
through which line of agencies the chain of cause and ef- 
fect must necessarily run — we are lost and bewildered. 

Other states and conditions in which the mental element 
is more apparent are communicated from one to another 



123 GENTLE MEASURES. 

in the same or, at least, in some analogous way. Being 
simply in t-he presence of one who is amused, or happy, or 
sad, causes us to feel amused, or happy, or sad ourselves — 
or, at least, has that tendency — even if we do not know 
from what cause the emotion which is communicated to 
us proceeds. A person of a joyous and happy disposition 
often brightens up at once any little circle into which he 
enters, while a morose and melancholy man carries gloom 
with him wherever he goes. Eloquence, which, if we w^ere 
to hear it addressed to us personally and individually, in 
private conversation, would move us very little, will excite 
us to a pitch of the highest enthusiasm if we hear it in the 
midst of a vast audience; even though the words, and the 
gestures, and the inflections of the voice, and the force with 
which it reaches our ears, were to be precisely the same in 
the two cases. And so a joke, which would produce only a 
quiet smile if we read it by ourselves at the fireside alone, 
will evoke convulsions of laughter when heard in a crowded 
theatre, where the hilarity is shared by thousands. 

A new element, indeed, seems to come into action in these 
last two cases ; for the mental condition of one mind is not 
only communicated to another, but it appears to be in- 
creased and intensified by the communication. Each does 
not feel merely the enthusiasm or the mirth which would 
naturally be felt by the other, but the general emotion is 
vastly heightened by its being so largely shared. It is like 
the case of the live coal, which does not merely set the dead 
coal on fire by being placed in contact with it, but the two 
together, when together, burn far more brightly than when 
apart. 

Wonderful Power of Sympathy. 

So much for the reality of this principle ; and it is almost 
impossible to exaggerate the extent and the magnitude of 



SYMPATHY. 123 

the influence it exerts in forming the character and shaping 
the ideas and opinions of men, and in regulating all their 
ordinary habits of thought and feeling. People's opinions 
are not gei.erally formed or controlled by arguments or 
reasonings, as they fondly suppose. They are imbibed by 
sympathy from those whom they like or love, and who are, 
or have been, their associates. Thus people, when they ar- 
rive at maturity, adhere in the main to the associations, 
both in religion and in politics, in which they have been 
brought up, from the influence of sympathy with those 
whom they love. They believe in this or that doctrine or 
system, not because they have been convinced by proof, 
but chiefly because those whom they love believe in them. 
On rehgious questions the arguments are presented to 
them, it is true, while they are young, in catechisms and in 
other forms of religious instruction, and in politics by the 
conversations which they overhear; but it is a mistake to 
suppose that arguments thus offered have any material ef- 
fect as processes of ratiocination in producing any logical 
conviction upon their minds. An English boy is Whig or 
Tory because his father, and his brothers, and his uncles are 
Whigs or Tories. He may, indeed, have many arguments at 
his command with which to maintain his opinions, but it is 
not the force of the arguments that has convinced him, noi 
do they have any force as a means of convincing the other 
boys to whom he offers them. They are controlled by their 
sympathies, as he is by his. But if he is a popular boy, and 
makes himself a favorite among his companions, the very 
fact that he is of this or that party will have more effect 
upon the other boys than the most logical and conclusive 
trains of reasoning that can be conceived. 

So it is with the religious and political differences in this 
and in every other country. Every one's opinions — or rath- 
er the opinion of people in general, for of course there are 



134 GENTLE MEASURES. 

many individual exceptions — are formed from sympathy 
with those with whom in mind and heart they have been in 
friendly communication during their years of childhood and 
youth. And even in those cases where persons change their 
religious opinions in adult age, the explanation of the mys- 
tery is generally to be found, not in seeking for the argu- 
ment that convinced them, but for the person that led them, 
in the accomplishment of the change. For such changes 
can very often, and perhaps generally, be traced to some 
person or persons whose influence over them, if carefully 
scrutinized, would be found to consist really not in the 
force of the arguments they offered, but in the magic pow- 
er of a silent and perhaps unconscious sympathy. The 
way, therefore, to convert people to our ideas and opinions 
is to make them like us or love us, and then to avoid ar- 
guing with them, but simply let them perceive what our 
ideas and opinions are. 

The well-known proverb, " Example is better than pre- 
cept," is only another form of expressing the predomina- 
ting power of sympathy ; for example can have little influ- 
ence except so far as a sympathetic feeling in the observer 
leads him to imitate it. So that, example is better than pre- 
cept means only that sympathy has more influence in the 
human heart than reasoning^. 

The Power of Sympathy in Childhood. 

This principle, so powerful at every period of life, is at 
its maximum in childhood. It is the origin, in a very 
great degree, of the spirit of imitation which forms so re- 
markable a characteristic of the first years of life. The 
child's thoughts and feelings being spontaneously drawn 
into harmony with the thoughts and feelings of those 
around him whom he loves, leads, of course, to a reproduc- 
tion of their actions, and the prevalence and universality of 



SYMPATHY. 125 

the effect shows how constant and how powerful is the 
cause. So the great secret of success for a mother, i« the 
formation of the character of her children, is to make her 
children respect and love her, and then simply to he her- 
self what she wishes them to be. 

And to make them respect and love her, is to control 
them by a firm government where control is required, and 
to indulge them almost without limit where indulgence will 
do no harm. 

Special A]jplication of the Principle. 

But besides this general effect of the principle of sym- 
pathy in aiding parents in forming the minds and hearts 
of their children, there are a great many cases in which a 
father or mother who understands the secret of its won- 
derful and almost magic power can avail themselves of it 
to produce special effects. One or two examples v^ill show 
more clearly what I mean. 

William's aunt Maria came to pay his mother a visit in 
the village where William's naother lived. On the same 
day she wxnt to take a walk with William — who is about 
nine years old — to see the* village. As they went along 
together upon the sidewalk, they came to two small boys 
who were trying to fly a kite. One of the boys was stand- 
ing upon the sidewalk, embarrassed a little by some entan- 
glement of the string. 

" Here, you fellow !" said William, as he and his aunt 
approached the spot, "get out of the way with your kite, 
and let us go by." 

The boy hurried out of the way, and, in so doing, got his 
kite-string more entangled still in the branches of a tree 
which grew at the margin of the sidewalk. 

Now William's aunt might have taken the occasion, as 
she and her nephew walked along, to give him some kind 



136 GENTLE MEASURES. 

and friendly instruction or counsel about the duty of be- 
ing kind to every body in any difficulty, trouble, or per- 
plexity, whether they are young or old ; showing him how 
we increase the general sum of happiness in so doing, and 
how we feel happier ourselves when we have done good 
to any one, than when we have increased in any way, or 
even slighted or disregarded, their troubles. How William 
would receive such a lecture would depend a great deal 
upon his disposition and state of mind. But in most cases 
such counsels, given at such a time, involving, as they would, 
some covert though very gentle censure, would cause the 
heart of the boy to close itself in a greater or less degree 
against them, like the leaves of a sensitive -plant shrink- 
ing from the touch. The reply would very probably be, 
" Well, he had no business to be on the sidewalk, right in 
our way." 

William and his aunt walked on a few steps. His aunt 
then stopped, hesitatingly, and said, 

" How would it do to go back and help that boy disen- 
tangle his kite-string ? He's a little fellow, and does not 
know so much about kites and kite-strings as you do." 

Here the suggestion of giving help to perplexity and dis- 
tress came associated with a compliment instead of what 
implied censure, and the leaves of the sensitive-plant ex- 
panded at once, and widely, to the genial influence. 

" Yes," said William; " let's go." 

So his aunt turned and went back a step or two, and 
then said, " You can go and do it without me. I'll wait 
here till you come back. I don't suppose you want any 
help from me. If you do, I'll coma" 

" No," said William, " I can do it alone." 

So William ran on with great alacrity to help the boys 
clear the string, and then came back with a hj&aming face 
to his aunt, and they walked on. 



SYMPATHY. 137 

William's aunt made no further allusion to the aifair un- 
til the end of the walk, and then, on entering the gate, she 
said, " We have had a very pleasant walk, and you have 
taken very good care of me. And I am glad we helped 
those boys out of their trouble with the kite." 

" So am I," said William. 

Analysis of the Incident. 

IsTow it is possible that some one may say that William 
was wrong in his harsh treatment of the boys, or at least 
in his want of consideration for their perplexity; and that 
his aunt, by her mode of treating the case, covered up the 
wrong, when it ought to have been brought distinctly to 
view and openly amended. But when we come to analyze 
the case, we shall find that it is not at all certain that there 
was any thing wrong on William's part in the transaction, 
so far as the state of his heart, in a moral point of view, 
is concerned. All such incidents are very complicated in 
their nature, and in their bearings and relations. They 
present many aspects which vary according to the point of 
view from which they are regarded. Even grown people 
do not always see all the different aspects of an affair in 
respect to which they are called upon to act or to form an 
opinion, and children, perhaps, never; and in judging their 
conduct, we must always consider the aspect in which the 
action is presented to their minds. In this case, William 
was thinking only of his aunt. He wished to make her 
walk convenient and agjreeable to her. The bov disentan- 
gling his string on the sidewalk was to him, at that time, 
simply an obstacle in his aunt's way, and he dealt with it 
as such, sending the boy off as an act of kindness and at- 
tention to his aunt solely. The idea of a sentient being 
suffering distress which he might either increase by harsh- 
ness or relieve by help was not present in his mind at all. 



138 GENTLE MEASURES. 

We may say that he ought to have thought of this. But 
a youthful mind, still imperfect in its development, can not 
be expected to take cognizance at once of all the aspects of 
a transaction which tends in different directions to differ- 
ent results. It is true, that he ought to have thought of 
the distress of the boys, if we mean that he ought to be 
taught or trained to think of such distress when he wit- 
nessed it; and that was exactly what his aunt was endeav- 
oring to do. We ourselves have learned, by long experi- 
ence of life, to perceive at once the many different aspects 
which an affair may present, and the many different re- 
sults w^hich may flow in various directions from the same 
action ; and we often inconsiderately blame children, sim- 
ply because their minds are yet so imperfectly developed 
that they can not take simultaneous cognizance of more 
than one or two of them. This is the true philosophy of 
most of what is called heedlessness in children, and for 
which, poor things, they receive so many harsh reprimands 
and so much punishment. 

A little girl, for example, undertakes to water her sister's 
plants. In her praiseworthy desire to do her work well 
and thoroughly, she fills the mug too full, and spills the wa- 
ter upon some books that are lying upon the table. The 
explanation of the misfortune is simply that her mind was 
filled, completely filled, w^ith the thoughts of helping her 
sister. The thought of the possibility of spilling the water 
did not come into it at all. There was no room for it while 
the other thought, so engrossing, was there ; and to say that 
she ought to have thought of both the results wbich might 
follow her action, is only to say that she ought to be older. 

Sympathy as the Origin of childish Fears. 

The power of sympathy in the mind of a child — that is, 
its tendency to imbibe the opinions or sentiments manifest- 



SYMPATHY. 129 

ed by others in their presence — may be made very effectual, 
not only in inculcating principles of right and wrong, but 
in relation to every other idea or emotion. Children are 
afraid of thunder and lightning, or of robbers at night, or 
of ghosts, because they perceive that their parents, or older 
brothers or sisters, are afraid of them. Where the parents 
do not believe in ghosts, the children are not afraid of them; 
unless, indeed, there are domestics in the house, or play- 
mates at school, or other companions from whom they take 
the contagion. So, what they see that their parents value 
they prize themselves. They imbibe from their playmates 
at school a very large proportion of their tastes, their opin- 
ions, and their ideas, not through arguments or reasoning, 
but from sympathy ; and most of the wrong or foolish no- 
tions of any kind that they have acquired have not been es- 
tablished in their minds by false reasoning, but have been 
taken by sympathy, as a disease is communicated by infec- 
tion ; and the remedy is in most cases, not reasoning, but a 
countervailing sympathy. 

Afraid of a Kitten. 

Little Jane was very much afraid of a kitten which her 
brother brought home — the first that she had known. She 
had, however, seen a picture of a tiger or some other feline 
animal devouring a man in a forest, and had been fright 
ened by it ; and she had heard too, perhaps, of children be- 
ing scratched by cats or kittens. So, when the kitten was 
brought in and put down on the floor, she ran to her sister 
in great terror, and began to cry. 

Now her sister might have attempted to reason with her 
by explaining the difference between the kitten and the 
wild animals of the same class in the woods, and by assur- 
ing her that thousands of children have kittens to play with 
and are never scratched by them so Ions; as they treat them 

F 2 



130 GENTLE MEASURES. 

kindly — and all without producing any sensible effect. But, 
instead of this, she adopted a different plan. She took the 
child up into her lap, and after quieting her fears, began to 
talk to the kitten. 

"Poor little pussy," said she, "I am glad you have come. 
You never scratch any body, I am sure, if they are kind to 
you, -Jennie will give you some milk some day, and she 
and I will like to see you lap it up with your pretty little 
tongue. And we will give you a ball to play with some 
day upon the carpet. See, Jennie, see! She is going to 
lie down upon the rug. She is glad that she has come to 
such a nice home. Now she is putting her head down, but 
she has not any pillow to lay it upon. Wouldn't you hke 
a pillow, kitty ? Jennie w^ill make you a pillow some day, 
I am sure, if you would like one. Jennie is beginning to 
learn to sew, and she could make you a nice pillow, and 
stuff it with cotton wool. Then we can see you lying down 
upon the rug, with the pillow under your head that Jennie 
will have made for you — all comfortable." 

Such a talk as this, though it could not be expected en- 
tirely and at once to dispel Jennie's unfounded fears, would 
be far more effectual towards beginning the desired change 
than any arguments or reasoning could possibly be. 

Any mother who will reflect upon the principle here ex- 
plained will at once recall to mind many examples and illus- 
trations of its power over the hearts and minds of children 
which her own experience has afforded. And if she begins 
practically and systematically to appeal to it, she will find 
herself in possession of a new element of power — new, at 
least, to her realization — the exercise of which will be as 
easy and agreeable to herself as it will be effective in its 
influence over her children. 



SYMPATHY. 131 



CHAPTER XI. 

SYMPATHY:— II. THE PARENT WITH THE CHILD. 

I THINK there can be no doubt that the most effectual 
way of securing the confidence and love of children, and of 
acquiring an ascendency over them, is by sympathizing 
with them in their child-like hopes and fears, and joys and 
sorrows — in their ideas, their fancies, and even in their ca- 
prices, in all cases where duty is not concerned. Indeed, 
the more child-like, that is, the more peculiar to the chil- 
dren themselves, the feelings are that we enter into with 
them, the closer is the bond of kindness and affection that 
is formed. 

An Example. 

If a gentleman coming to reside in a new town concludes 
that it is desirable that he should be on good terms with 
the boys in the streets, there are various ways by which he 
can seek to accomplish the end. Fortunately for him, the 
simplest and easiest mode is the most effectual. On going 
into the village one day, we will suppose he sees two small 
boys playing horse. One boy is horse, and the other driver. 
As they draw near, they check the play a little, to be more 
decorous in passing by the stranger. He stops to look at 
them with a pleased expression of countenance, and then 
gays, addressing the driver, with a face of much serious- 
ness, " That's a first-rate horse of yours. Would you like 
to sell him? He seems to be very spirited." The horse 
immediately begins to prance and caper. " You must have 
paid a high price for him. You must take good care of 



132 GENTLE MEASURES. 

him. Give him plenty of oats, and don't drive him hard 
when it is hot weather. And if ever you conclude to sell 
him, I wish you would let me know." 

So saying, the gentleman walks on, and the horse, follow- 
ed by his driver, goes galloping forward in high glee. 

Now, by simply manifesting thus a fellow-feeling with 
the boys in their childish play, the stranger not only gives a 
fresh impulse to their enjoyment at the time, but establishes 
a friendly i-elationship between them and him which, with- 
out his doing any thing to strengthen or perpetuate it, will 
of itself endure for a long time. If he does not speak to 
the boys again for months, every time they meet him they 
will be ready to greet him with a smile. 

The incident will go much farther towards establishing 
friendly relations between him and them than any presents 
that he could make them — except so far as his presents 
were of such a kind, and were given in such a way, as to be 
expressions of kindly feeling towards them — that is to say, 
such as to constitute of themselves a manifestation of sym- 
pathy. 

The uncle who gives his nephews and nieces presents, let 
them be ever so costly or beautiful, and takes no interest in 
their affairs, never inspires them with any feeling of per- 
sonal affection. They like him as they like the apple-tree 
which bears them sweet and juicy apples, or the cow that 
gives them milk — which is on their part a very different 
sentiment from that which they feel for the kitten that 
plays with them and shares their joys — or even for their 
dolls, which are only pictured in their imagination as shar- 
ing them. 

Sophronia and Anrelia. 

Miss Sophronia calls at a house to make a visit. A child 
of seven or eight years of age is playing upon the floor. 



SYMPATHY. 133 

After a little time, at a pause in the conversation, she calls 
the child — addressing her as " My little girl " — to come to 
her. The child — a shade being cast over her mind by being 
thus unnecessarily reminded of her littleness — hesitates to 
come. The mother says, " Come and shake hands with the 
lady, my dear !" The child comes reluctantly. Miss So- 
phronia asks what her name is, how old she is, whether she 
goes to school, what she studies there, and whether she likes 
to go to school, and at length releases her. The child, only 
too glad to be free from such a tiresome visitor, goes back 
to her play, and afterwards the only ideas she has associ- 
ated with the person of her visitor are those relating to her 
school and her lessons, w^hich may or may not be of an 
agreeable character. 

Presently, after Miss Sophronia has gone. Miss Aurelia 
comes in. After some conversation with the mother, she 
goes to see what the child is building with her blocks. 
After looking on for a moment with an expression of inter- 
est in her countenance, she asks her if she has a doll. The 
child says she has four. Miss Aurelia then asks which she 
likes best, and expresses a desire to see that one. The 
child, much pleased, runs away to bring it, and presently 
comes back with all four. Miss Aurelia takes them in her 
hands, examines them, talks about them, and talks to them ; 
and when at last the child goes back to her play, she goes 
with the feeling in her heart that she has found a new 
friend. 

Thus, to bring ourselves near to the hearts of children, 
we must go to them by entering into their icorlcl. They 
can not come to us by entering ours. They have no expe- 
rience of it, and can not understand it. But we have had 
experience of theirs, and can enter it if we choose ; and in 
that way we bring ourselves very near to them. 



134 GENTLE MEASUBES. 

Sympathy must he Sincere. 

But the sympathy which we thus express with children, 
in order to be effectual, must be sincere and genuine, and 
not pretended. We must renew our own childish ideas 
and imaginations, and become for the moment, in feeling, 
one with them, so that the interest which we express in 
what they are saying or doing may be real, and not mere- 
ly assumed. They seem to have a natural instinct to dis- 
tinguish between an honest and actual sharing of their 
thoughts and emotions, and all mere condescension and 
pretense, however adroitly it may be disguised. 

Want of Time. 

Some mothers may perhaps say that they have not time 
thus to enter into the ideas and occupations of their children. 
They are engrossed with the serious cares of life, or busy 
with its various occupations. But it does not require time. 
It is not a question of time, but of manner. The farmer's 
wife, for example, is busy ironing, or sewing, or preparing 
breakfast for her husband and sons, who are expected ev- 
ery moment to come in hungry from their work. Her lit- 
tle daughter, ten years old, comes to show her a shawl she 
has been making from a piece of calico for her doll. The 
busy mother thinks she must say, " Yes ; but run away 
now, Mary ; I am very busy !" — because that is the easiest 
and quickest thing to say; but it is just as easy and just 
as quick to say, " What a pretty shawl ! Play now that 
you are going to take Minette out for a walk in it !" The 
one mode sends the child away repulsed and a little disap- 
pointed ; the other pleases her and makes her happy, and 
tends, moreover, to form a new bond of union and sympathy 
between her mother's heart and her own. A merchant, 
engrossed all day in his business, comes home to his house 



SYMPATHY. 135 

at dinner-time, and meets his boy of fifteen on the steps 
returning from his school. " Well, James," he says, as 
they walk together up stairs, " I hope you have been a 
good boy at school to-day." James, not knowing what to 
say, makes some inaudible or unmeaning reply. His father 
then goes on to say that he hopes his boy will be diligent 
and attentive to his studies, and improve his time well, as 
his future success in life will depend upon the use which he 
makes of his advantages while he is young; and then leaves 
him at the head of the stairs, each to go to his room. 

All this is very well. Advice given under such circum- 
stances and in such a way produces, undoubtedly, a certain 
good effect, but it does not tend at all to bring the father 
and son together. But if, instead of giving this common- 
place advice, the father asks — supposing it to be winter at 
the time — "Which kind of skates are the most popular 
among the boys nowadays, James ?" Then, after hearing 
his reply, he asks him what his opinion is, and whether 
any great improvement has been made within a short time, 
and whether the patent inventions are any of them of much 
consequence. The tendency of such a conversation as this, 
equally brief with the other, will be to draw the father and 
son more together. Even in a moral point of view, the in- 
fluence would be, indirectly, very salutary ; for although no 
moral counsel or instruction was given at the time, the ef- 
fect of such a participation in the thoughts with which the 
boy's mind is occupied is to strengthen the bond of union 
between the heart of the boy and that of his father, and 
thus to make the boy far more ready to receive and be 
guided by the advice or admonitions of his father on other 
occasions. 

Let no one suppose, frorh these illustrations, that they are 
intended to inculcate the idea that a father is to lay aside 
the parental counsels and instructions that he has been ac' 



136 GENTLE MEASURES. 

customed to give to his children, and replace them by talks 
about skates ! They are only intended to show one aspect 
of the difference of effect produced by the two kinds of 
conversation, and that the father, if he wishes to gain and 
retain an influence over the hearts of his boys, must de- 
scend sometimes into the world in which they live, and 
with which their thoughts are occupied, and must enter it, 
not merely as a spectator, or a fault-finder, or a counsellor, 
but as a sharer, to some extent, in the ideas and feeUngs 
which are appropriate to it. 

Ascendency over the Minds of Children. 

Sympathizing with children in their own pleasures and 
enjoyments, however childish they may seem to us when 
we do not regard them, as it were, with children's eyes, is, 
perhaps, the most powerful of all the means at our com- 
mand for gaining a powerful ascendency over them. This 
will lead us not to interfere with their own plans and ideas, 
but to be willing that they should be happy in their own 
way. In respect to their duties, those connected, for ex- 
ample, with their studies, their serious employments, and 
their compliance with directions of any kind emanating 
fi'om superior authority, of course their will must be un- 
der absolute subjection to that of those who are older and 
wiser than they. In all such things they must bring their 
thoughts and actions into accord with ours. In these 
things the}'" must come to us, not we to them. But in ev- 
ery thing that relates to their child-like pleasures and joys, 
their modes of recreation and amusement, their playful ex- 
plorations of the mystei'ies of things, and the various nov- 
elties around them in the strange world into which they 
find themselves ushered — in all these things we must not 
attempt to bring them to us, but must go to them. In 
this, their own sphere, the more perfectly they are at lib- 



SYMPATHY. 13? 

erty, the better; and if we join them in it at all, we must 
do so by bringing our ideas and wishes into accord with 
theirs. 

Foolish Fears. 

The effect of our sympathy with children in winning 
their confidence and love, is all the more powerful when it 
is exercised in cases where they are naturally inclined not 
to expect sympathy — that is, in relation to feelings which 
they would suppose that older persons would be inclined 
to condemn. Perhaps the most striking example of this 
is in what is commonly called foolish fears. Now a fear 
is foolish or otherwise, not according to the absolute facts 
involving the supposed danger, but according to the means 
which the person in question has of knowing the facts. A 
lady, for example, in passing along the sidewalk of a great 
city comes to a place where workmen are raising an im- 
mense and ponderous iron safe, which, slowly rising, hangs 
suspended twenty feet above the walk. She is afraid to 
pass under it. The foreman, however, who is engaged in 
directing the operation, passing freely to and fro under the 
impending weight, as he has occasion, and without the least 
concern, smiles, perhaps, at the lady's " foolish fears." But 
the fears which might, perhaps, be foolish in him, are not 
so in her, since he knows the nature and the strength of 
the machinery and securities above, and she does not. She 
only knows that accidents do sometimes happen from want 
of due precaution in raising heavy weights, and she does 
not know, and has no means of knowing, whether or not 
the due precautions have been taken in this case. So she 
manifests good sense, and not folly, in going out of her way 
to avoid all possibility of danger. 

This is really the proper explanation of a large class of 
what are usually termed foolish fears. Viewed in the light 



138 GENTLE MEASURES. 

of the individual's knowledge of the facts in the case, they 
are sensible fears, and not foolish ones at all. 

A girl of twelve, from the city, spending the summer in 
the country, wishes to go down to the river to join her 
brothers there, but is stopped by observing a cow in a field 
which she has to cross. She conies back to the house, and 
is there laughed at for her foolishness in being " afi-aid of 
a cow !" 

But why should she not be afraid of a cow? She has 
heard stories of people being gored by bulls, and sometimes 
by cows, and she has no means" whatever of estimating the 
reality or the extent of the danger in any particular case. 
The farmer's daughters, however, who laugh at her, know 
the cow in question perfectly well. They have^.milked her, 
and fed her, and tied her up to her manger a hundred 
times ; so, while it would be a very foolish thing for them 
to be afraid to cross a field where the cow was feeding, it 
is a very sensible thing for the stranger-girl from the city 
to be so. 

Nor would it certainly change the case much for the 
child, if the farmer's girls were to assure her that the cow 
was perfectly peaceable, and that there was no danger; for 
she does not know the girls any better than she does the 
cow, and can not judge how far their statements or opin- 
ions are to be rehed upon. It may possibly not be the cow 
they think it is. They are very positive, it is true; but 
very positive people are often mistaken. Besides, the cow 
may be peaceable with them, and yet be disposed to attack 
a stranger. What a child requires in such a case is sym- 
pathy and help, not ridicule. 

This, in the case supposed, she meets in the form of the 
farmer's son, a young man browned in face and plain in 
attire, who comes along while she stands loitering at the 
fence looking at the cow, and not daring after all, notwith- 



SYMPATHY. 141 

standing the assurances she has received at the house, to 
cross the field. His name is Joseph, and he is a natural 
gentleman — a class of persons of whom a much larger num= 
ber is found in this humble guise, and a much smaller num- 
ber in proportion among the fashionables in elegant life, 
than is often supposed. " Yes," says Joseph, after hearing 
the child's statement of the case, "you are right. Cows 
are sometimes vicious, I know ; and you are perfectly right 
to be on your guard against such as you do not know when 
you meet them in the country. This one, as it happens, is 
very kind ; but still, I will go through the field with you." 

So he goes with her through the field, stopping on the 
way to talk a little to the cow, and to feed her with an 
apple which he has in his pocket. 

It is in this spirit that the fears, and antipathies, and false 
imaginations of children are generally to be dealt with; 
though, of course, there may be many exceptions to the 
general rule. 

When Children are in the Wrong. 

There is a certain sense in which w^e should feel a sym- 
pathy with children in the wrong that they do. It would 
seem paradoxical to say that in any sense there should be 
sympathy w4th sin, and yet there is a sense in which this is 
true, though perhaps, strictly speaking, it is sympathy with 
the trial and temptation which led to the sin, rather than 
with the act of transgression itself. In whatever light a 
nice metaphysical analysis would lead us to regard it, it is 
certain that the most successful efforts that have been made 
by philanthropists for reaching the hearts and reforming 
the conduct of criminals and malefactors have been prompt- 
ed by a feeling of compassion for them, not merely for the 
sorrows and sufferings which they have brought upon 
themselves by their wrong-doing, but for the mental con- 



143 GENTLE MEASURES. 

flicts which they endured, the fierce impulses of appetite 
and passion, more or less connected with and dependent 
upon the material condition of the bodily organs, under 
the onset of which their feeble moral sense, never really 
brought into a condition of health and vigor, was over- 
borne. These merciful views of the diseased condition and 
action of the soul in the commission of crime are not only 
in themselves right views for man to take of the crimes and 
sins of his fellow-man, but they lie at the foundation of all 
effort that can afford any serious hope of promoting refor- 
mation. 

This principle is eminently true in its application to chil- 
dren. They need the influence of a kind and considerate 
sympathy when they have done w^rong, more, perhaps, than 
at any other time ; and the effects of the proper manifesta- 
tion of this sympathy on the part of the mother will, per- 
haps, be greater and more salutary in this case than in any 
other. Of course the sympathy must be of the right kind, 
and must be expressed in the right way, so as not to allow 
the tenderness or compassion for the wrong-doer to be mis- 
taken for approval or justification of the wrong. 

Case supposed. 

A boy, for instance, comes home from school in a state 
of great distress, and perhaps of indignation and resent- 
ment, on account of having been punished. Mothers some- 
times say at once, in such a case, "I don't pity you at all. 
I have no doubt you deserved it." This only increases the 
tumult of commotion in the boy's mind, without at all tend- 
ing to help him to feel a sense of his guilt. His mind, still 
imperfectly developed, can not take cognizance simultane- 
ously of all the parts and all the aspects of a complicated 
transaction. The sense of his wrong-doing, which forms in 
his teacher's and in his mother's mind so essential a part 



SYMPATHY. 143 

of the transaction, is not present in his conceptions at all. 
There is no room for it, so totally engrossed are all his fac- 
ulties with the stinging recollections of suffering, the tu- 
multuous emotions of anger and resentment, and now with 
the additional thought that even his mother has taken part 
against him. The mother's conception of the transaction 
is equally limited and imperfect, though in a different way. 
She thinks only that if she were to treat the child with 
kindness and sympathy, she would be taking the part of a 
bad boy against his teacher ; whereas, in reality, she might 
do it in such a way as only to be taking the part of a suf- 
fering boy against his pain. 

It would seem that the true and proper course for a 
mother to take with a child in such a case would be to 
soothe and calm his agitation, and to listen, if need be, to 
his account of the affair, without questioning or controvert- 
ing it at all, however plainly she may see that, under the 
blinding and distorting influence of his excitement, he is 
misrepresenting the facts. Let him tell his story. Listen 
to it patiently to the end. It is not necessary to express 
or even to form an opinion on the merits of it. The ready 
and willinor hearins: of one side of a case does not commit 
the tribunal to a decision in favor of that side. On t-he 
other hand, it is the only way to give weight and a sense 
of impartiahty to a decision against it. 

Thus the mother may sympathize with her boy in his 
troubles, appreciate fully the force of the circumstances 
which led him into the wrong, and help to soothe and 
calm his agitation, and thus take his part, and place her- 
self closely to him in respect to his suffering, without com- 
mitting herself at all in regard to the original cause of it; 
and then, at a subsequent time, when the tumult of his 
soul has subsided, she can, if she thinks best, far more easi- 
ly and effectually lead him to see wherein he was wrong. 



144 GENTLE MEASLfRES. 



CHAPTER XII. 
COMMENDATION AND ENCOURAGEMENT. 

We are very apt to imagine that the disposition to do 
right is, or ought to be, the natural and normal condition 
of childhood, and that doing wrong is something unnatural 
and exceptional with children. As a consequence, when 
they do right we think there is nothing to be said. That 
is, or ought to be, a matter of .course. It is only when 
they do wrong that we notice their conduct, and then, of 
course, with censure and reproaches. Thus our discipline 
consists mainly, not in gently leading and encouraging 
them in the right way, but in deterring them, by fault-find- 
ing and punishment, from going wrong. 

Now we ought not to forget that in respect to moral con- 
duct as well as to mental attainments children know noth- 
ing when they come into the world, but have every thing 
to learn, either from the instructions or from the example 
of those around them. We do not propose to enter at all 
into the consideration of the various theological and meta- 
physical theories held by different classes of philosophers 
In respect to the native constitution and original tenden- 
cies of the human soul, but to look at the phenomena of 
mental and moral action in a plain and practical way, as 
they present themselves to the observation of mothers in 
the every-day walks of life. And in order the better to 
avoid any complication with these theories, we will take 
first an extremely simple case, namely, the fault of making 
too much noise in opening and shutting the door in going 
in and out of a room. Georgie and Charlie are two boys, 



COMMENDATION AND ENCOURAGEMENT. 145 

both about five years old, and both i3rone to the same fault. 
We will suppose that their mothers take opposite methods 
to correct them ; Georgie's mother depending upon the in- 
fluence of commendation and encouragement when he does 
right, and Charlie's, upon the efficacy of reproaches and 
punishments when he does wrong. 

One Method. 

Georgie, eager to ask his mother some question, or to 
obtain some permission in respect to his play, bursts into 
her room some morning with great noise, opening and 
shutting the door violently, and making much disturbance. 
In a certain sense he is not to blame for this, for he is 
wholly unconscious of the disturbance he makes. The en- 
tire cognizant capacity of his mind is occupied with the 
object of his request. He not only had no intention of 
doing any harm, but has no idea of his having done any. 

His mother takes no notice of the noise he made, but 
answers his question, and he goes away making almost as 
much noise in going out as he did in coming in. 

The next time he comes in it happens — entirely by acci- 
dent, we will suppose — that he makes a Httle less noise than 
before. This furnishes his mother with her opportunity. 

"Georgie," she says, "I see you are improving." 

"Improving?" repeats Georgie, not knowing to Avhat his 
mother refers, 

"Yes," said his mother; "you are improving, in coming 
into the room without making a noise by opening and 
shutting the door. You did not make nearly as much 
noise this time as you did before when you came in. Some 
boys, whenever they come into a room, make so much noise 
in opening and shutting the door that it is very disagree- 
able. If you go on improving as you have begun, you will 
soon come in as still as any gentleman." 

G 



146 GENTLE MEASURES. 

The next time that Georgie comes in, he takes the utmost 
pains to open and shut the door as silently as possible. 

He makes his request. His mother shows herself un- 
usually ready to grant it. 

"You opened and shut the door like a gentleman," she 
gays. " I ought to do every thing for you that I can, when 
you take so much pains not to disturb or trouble me." 

Another Method. 

Charlie's mother, on the other hand, acts on a different 
principle. Charlie comes in sometimes, we will suppose, 
in a quiet and proper manner. His mother takes no notice 
of this. She considers it a matter of course. By-and-by, 
however, under the influence of some special eagerness, he 
makes a great noise. Then his mother interposes. She 
breaks out upon him with, 

" Charlie, w^hat a noise you make ! Don't you know bet- 
ter than to slam the doer in that way when you come in ? 
If you can't learn to make less noise in going in and out, 
I shall not let you go in and out at all." 

Charlie knows very well that this is an empty threat. 
Still, the utterance of it, and the scolding that accompanies 
it, irritate him a little, and the only possible good effect 
that can be expected to result from it is to make him try, 
the next time he comes in, to see how small an abatement 
of the noise he usually makes will do, as a kind of make- 
believe obedience to his mother's command. He might, in- 
deed, honestly answer his mother's angry question by say- 
ing that he does not know better than to make such a 
noise. He does not know why the noise of the door 
should be disagreeable to his mother. It is not disagree- 
able to him. On the contrary, it is agreeable. Children 
always like noise, especially if they make it themselves. 
And although Charlie has often been told that he must not 



COMMEND A TION AND ENUO URA GEMEXT 1 4-? 

make any noise, the reason for this— namely, that thougli 
noise is a source of pleasure, generally, to children, especial- 
ly when they make it themselves, it is almost always a 
source of annoyance and pain to grown persons — has never 
really entered his mind so as to be actually comprehended 
as a practical reality. His ideas in respect to the philos- 
ophy of the transaction are, of course, exceedingly vague ; 
but so far as he forms any idea, it is that his mother's 
words are the expression of some mysterious but unreason- 
able sensitiveness on her part, which awakens in her a spirit 
of fault-fiuding and ill-humor that vents itself upon him in 
blaming him for nothing at all ; or, as he would express it 
more tersely, if not so elegantly, that she is " very cross." 
In other words, the impression made by the transaction 
upon his moral sense is that of wrong-doing on his ??20^A- 
er''s part, and not at all on his own. 

It is evident, when we thus look into the secret workino-s 
of this method of curing children of their faults, that even 
when it is successful in restraining certain kinds of outward 
misconduct, and is thus the means of effecting some small 
amount of good, the injury which it does by its reaction 
on the spirit of the child may be vastly greater, through 
the irritation and ill-humor which it occasions, and the im- 
pairing of his confidence in the justice and goodness of his 
mother. Before leaving this illustration, it must be care- 
fully observed that in the first -mentioned case — namely, 
that of Georgie— the work of curing the fault in question 
is not to bo at all considered as effected by the step taken 
by his mother which has been already described. That 
was only a beginning — a rigM beginning, it is true, but still 
only a beginning. It produced in him a cordial wiUing- 
ness to do right, in one instance. That is a great thing, 
but it is, after all, only one single step. The work is not 
complete until a habit of doing right is formed, which is 



148 GENTLE MEASURES. 

another thing altogether, and requires special and continual 
measures directed to this particular end. Children have to 
be trained in the way they should go — not merely shown 
the way, and induced to make a beginning of entering it. 
We will now try to show how the influence of commenda- 
tion and encouragement may be brought into action in this 
more essential part of the process. 

Ilahit to he Formed. 

Having taken the first step already described, Georgie's 
mother finds some proper opportunity, when she can have 
the undisturbed and undivided attention of her boy — per- 
haps at night, after he has gone to his crib or his trundle- 
bed, and just before she leaves him; or, perhaps, at some 
time while she is at work, and he is sitting by her side, 
with his mind calm, quiet, and unoccupied. 

" Georgie," she says, "I have a plan to propose to you." 

Georgie is eager to know what it is. 

" You know how pleased I was when you came in so 
still to-day." 

Georgie remembers it very well. 

"It is very curious, " continued his mother, "that there 
is a great difference between grown people and children 
about noise. Children like almost all kinds of noises very 
much, especially, if they make the noises themselves; but 
grown people dislike them even more, I think, than chil- 
dren like them. If there were a number of boys in the 
house, and I should tell them that they might run back and 
forth through the rooms, and rattle and slam all the doors 
as they Avent as loud as they could, they would like it very 
much. They would think it excellent fun." 

" Yes," says Georgie, " indeed, they would. I wish you 
would let us do it some day." 

" But grown people," continues his mother, " would not 



COMMENDATION AND ENCOURAGEMENT 149 

like such an amusement at all. On the contrary, such a 
racket would be excessively disagreeable to them, whether 
they made it themselves or whether somebody else made 
it. So, when children come into a room where grown peo- 
ple are sitting, and make a noise in opening and shutting 
the door, it is very disagreeable. Of course, grown people 
always like those children the best that come into a room 
quietly, and in a gentlemanly and lady-like manner." 

As this explanation comes in connection with Georgie's 
having done right, and with the commendation which he 
has received for it, his mind and heart are open to receive 
it, instead of being disposed to resist and exclude it, as he 
would have been if the same things exactly had been said 
to him in connection with censure and reproaches for hav- 
ing acted in violation of the principle. 

" Yes, mother," says he, " and I mean always to open and 
shut the door as still as I can." 

" Yes, I know you mean to do so," rejoined his mother, 
" but you will forget, unless you have some plan to make 
you remember it until the habit is formed. Now I have a 
plan to propose to help you form the habit. When you get 
the habit once formed there will be no more difficulty. 

" The plan is this : whenever you come into a room mak- 
ing a noise, I will simply say, Noise. Then you will step 
back again softly and shut the door, and then come in again 
in a quiet and proper way. You will not go back for pun- 
ishment, for you would not have made the noise on pur- 
pose, and so would not deserve any punishment. It is only 
to help you remember, and so to form the habit of coming 
into a room in a quiet and gentlemanly manner." 

Now Georgie, especially if all his mother's management 
of him is conducted in this spirit, will enter into this plan 
with great cordiality. 

"I should not propose this plan," continued his mother, 



150 GENTLE MEASURES. 

"if I thought that when I say N'oise, and you have to go 
out and come in again, it would put you out of humor, and 
make you cross or sullen. I am sure you will be good-na- 
tured about it, and even if you consider it a kind of punish- 
ment, that you will go out willingly, and take the punish- 
ment like a man ; and when you come in again you will 
come in still, and look pleased and happy to find that you 
are carrying out the plan honorably." 

Then if, on the first occasion when he is sent back, he 
does take it good-naturedly, this must be noticed and com- 
mended. 

Now, unless we are entirely wrong in all our ideas of the 
nature and tendencies of the infantile mind, it is as certain 
that a course of procedure like this will be successful in 
curing the fault which is the subject of treatment, as that 
water will extinguish fire. It cures it, too, without occa- 
sioning any irritation, annoyance, or ill-humor in the mind 
either of mother or child. On the contrary, it is a source 
of real satisfaction and pleasure to them both, and increases 
and strengthens the bond of sympathy by which their hearts 
are united to each other. 

The Principle iiivolved. 

It must be understood distinctly that this case is given 
only as an illustration of a principle which is applicable to 
all cases. The act of opening and shutting a door in a 
noisy manner is altogether too insignificant a fault to de- 
serve this long discussion of the method of curing it, were 
it not that methods founded on the same princij^les, ^nd 
conducted in the same spirit, are applicable universally in 
all that pertains to the domestic management of children. 
And it is a method, too, directly the opposite of that which 
is often — I will not say generally, but certainly very often 
— pursued. The child tells the truth many times, and in 



C03IMEXDATI0N AND ENCOURAGEMENT. 151 

some cases, perhaps, when the inducement was very strong 
to tell an untruth. We take no notice of these cases, con- 
sidering it a matter of course that he should tell the truth. 
We reserve our action altogether for the first case when, 
overcome by a sudden temptation, he tells a lie, and then 
interpose with reproaches and punishment. Nineteen times 
he gives up what belongs to his little brother or sister of 
his own accord, perhaps after a severe internal struggle. 
The twentieth time the result of the struggle goes the 
wrong way, and he attempts to retain by violence what 
does not belong to him. We take no notice of the nine- 
teen cases when the little fellow did right, but come and 
box his ears in the one case when he does wrong. 

Origin of the Error. 

The idea on which this mode of treatment is founded — 
namely, that it is a 'inatter of course that children should 
do right, so that when they do right there is nothing to be 
said, and that doing wrong is the abnormal condition and 
exceptional action which alone requires the parent to inter- 
fere — is, to a great extent, a mistake. Indeed, the matter of 
course is all the other way. A babe w^ill seize the plaything 
of another babe without the least compunction long after it 
is keenly alive to the injustice and wrongfulness of having 
its own playthings taken by any other child. So in regard 
to truth. The first impulse of all children, when they have 
just acquired the use of language, is to use it in such a way 
as to effect their object for the time being, without any 
sense of the sacred obligation of making the words always 
correspond truly with the facts. The principles of doing 
justice to the rights of others to one's own damage, and of 
speaking the truth when falsehood would serve the present 
purpose better, are principles that are developed or acquired 
by slow degrees, and at a later period. I say developed of 



152 GENTLE MEASUMES. 

acquired — for diiferent classes of metaphysicians and theo- 
logians entertain different theories in resj^ect to the way by 
which the ideas of right and of duty enter into the human 
mind. But all will agree in this, that whatever may be the 
origin of the moral sense in man, it does not appear as a 
practical element of control for the conduct till some time 
after the animal appetites and passions have begun to exer- 
cise their power. Whether we regard this sense as arising 
from a development within of a latent principle of the soul, 
or as an essential element of the inherited and native consti- 
tution of man, though remaining for a time embryonic and 
inert, or as a habit acquired under the influence of instruc- 
tion and example, all will admit that the period of its appear- 
ance as a perceptible motive of action is so delayed, and the 
time required for its attaining suflicient strength to exercise 
any real and effectual control over the conduct extends over 
so many of the earlier years of life, that no very material 
help in governing the appetites and passions and impulses 
can be reasonably exjDected from it at a very early period. 
Indeed, conscience, so far as its existence is manifested at 
all in childhood, seems to show itself chiefly in the form 
of the simple fear of detection in what there is reason to 
suppose Avill lead, if discovered, to reproaches or punish- 
ment. 

At any rate, the moral sense in childhood, whatever may 
be our philosophy in respect to the origin and the nature 
of it, can not be regarded as a strong and settled principle 
on which we can throw the responsibility of regulating the 
conduct, and holding it sternly to its obligations. It is, on 
the contrary, a very tender plant, slowly coming forward to 
the development of its beauty and its power, and requiring 
the most gentle fostering and care on the pai"t of those in- 
trusted with the training of the infant mind ; and the in- 
fluence of commendation and encouragement when the em- 



COMMENDATION AND ENCOUMAGEMENT. 153 

bryo monitor succeeds in its incipient and feeble efforts, 
will be far more effectual in promoting its development, 
than that of censure and punishment when it fails. 

Important Caution. 

For every good thing there seems to be something in its 
form and semblance that is spurious and bad. The prin- 
ciple brought to view in this chapter has its counterfeit in 
the indiscriminate praise and flattery of children by their 
parents, which only makes them self -conceited and vain, 
without at all promoting any good end. The distinction 
between the two might be easily pointed out, if time and 
space permitted ; but the intelligent parent, who has rightly 
comprehended the method of management here described, 
and the spirit in which the process of applying it is to be 
made, will be in no danger of confounding one with the 
other. 

This principle of noticing and commending, within jDrop- 
er limits and restrictions, what is right, rather than finding 
fault with what is wrong, will be found to be as important 
in the work of instruction as in the regulation of conduct. 
We have, in fact, a very good opportunity of comparing 
the two systems, as it is a curious fact that in certain 
things it is almost the universal custom to adopt one 
method, and in certain others, the other. 

The tioo Methods exe^mplified. 

There are, for example, two arts which children have to 
learn, in the process of their mental and physical develop- 
ment, in which their faults, errors, and deficiencies are nev- 
er pointed out, but in the dealings of their parents with 
them all is commendation and encouragement. They are 
the arts of walking and talking. 

The first time that a child attempts to walk alone, what 

G2 



154 GENTLE MEASURES. 

a feeble, staggering, and awkward exhibition it makes. 
And yet its mother shows, by the excitement of her coun- 
tenance, and the delight expressed by her exclamations, 
how pleased she is with the performance ; and she, per- 
haps, even calls in persons from the next room to see how 
well the baby can walk ! Not a word about imperfections 
and failings, not a word about the tottering, the awkward 
reaching out of arms to preserve the balance, the crooked- 
ness of the way, the anxious exjDression of the comitenance, 
or any other faults. These are left to correct themselves 
by the continued practice which encouragement is sure to 
lead to. 

It is true that words would not be available in such a 
case for fanlt-finding ; for a child when learning to walk 
would be too young to understand them. But the j^arent's 
sense of the imperfections of the performance might be ex- 
pressed in looks and gestures which the child would un- 
derstand ; but he sees, on the contrary, nothing but indi- 
cations of satisfaction and pleasure, and it is very manifest 
how much he is encouraged by them. Seeing the pleasure 
which his efforts give to the spectators, he is made proud 
and happy by his success, and goes on making efforts to 
improve with alacrity and delight. 

It is the same with learning to talk. The mistakes, de- 
ficiencies, and errors of the first rude attempts are seldom 
noticed, and still more seldom pointed out by the parent. 
On the contrary, the child takes the impression, from the 
readiness with which its words are understood and the de- 
light it evidently gives its mother to hear them, that it is 
going on triumphantly in its work of learning to talk, in- 
stead of feeling that its attempts are only tolerated because 
they are made by such a little child, and that they require 
a vast amount of correction, alteration, and improvement, 
before they will be at all satisfactory. Indeed, so far from 



COMMENDATION AND ENCOUMAGEMENT. 155 

criticising and pointing out the errors and faults, the moth- 
er very frequently meets the child half way in its progress, 
by actually adopting the faults and errors herself in her 
replies. So that when the little beginner in the use of lan- 
guage, as he wakes up in his crib, and stretching out his 
hands to his mother says, " I want to det iip^'' she comes to 
take him, and replies, her face beaming with delight, " My 
little darUng! you shall c?e^ up;'" thus filling his mind 
with happiness at the idea that his mother is not only 
pleased that he attempts to speak, but is fully satisfied, and 
more than satisfied, with his success. 

The result is, that in learning to walk and to talk, chil- 
dren always go forward w^ith alacrity and ardor. They 
practise continually and spontaneously, requiring no prom- 
ises of reward to allure them to effort, and no threats of 
punishment to overcome repugnance or aversion. It might 
be too much to say that the rapidity of their progress and 
the pleasure which they experience in making it, are owing 
wholly to the commendation and encouragement they re- 
ceive — for other causes may co-operate with these. But it 
is certain that these influences contribute very essentially 
to the result. There can be no doubt at all that if it w^ere 
possible for a mother to stop her child in its efforts to learn 
to walk and to talk, and explain to it, no matter how kind- 
ly, all its shortcomings, failures, and mistakes, and were to 
make this her daily and habitual practice, the consequence 
would be, not only a great diminution of the ardor and ani- 
mation of the little pupil, in pressing forward in its work, 
but also a great retardation in its progress. 

Example of the other Method. 
Let us now, for the more full understanding of the sub- 
ject, go to the other extreme, and consider a case in which 
the management is as far as possible removed from that 



156 GENTLE MEASURES. 

above referred to. We can not have a better example than 
the method often adopted in schools and seminaries for 
teaching composition ; in other words, the art of express- 
ing one's thoughts in written language — an art which one 
would suppose to be so analogous to that of learning to 
talk — that is, to express one's thoughts in oral language — 
that the method which was found so eminently successful 
in the one would be naturally resorted to in the other. In- 
stead of that, the method often pursued is exactly the re- 
verse. The pupil having with infinite difficulty, and with 
many forebodings and anxious fears, made his first attempt, 
brings it to his teacher. The teacher, if he is a kind-heart- 
ed and considerate man, perhaps briefly commends the ef- 
fort with some such dubious and equivocal praise as it is 
" Yery well for a beginner," or "As good a composition as 
could be expected at the first attempt," and then proceeds 
to go over the exercise in a cool and deliberate manner, 
with a view of discovering and bringing out clearly and 
conspicuously to the view, not only of the little author him- 
self, but often of all his classmates and friends, every imper- 
fection, failure, mistake, omission, or other fault which a 
rigid scrutiny can detect in the performance. However 
kindly he may do this, and however gentle the tones of his 
voice, still the work is criticism and fault-finding from be- 
ginning to end. The boy sits on thorns and nettles while 
submitting to the operation, and when he takes his marked 
and corrected manuscript to his seat, he feels mortified and 
ashamed, and is often hopelessly discouraged. 

How Faults are to he Corrected. 

Some one may, perhaps, say that pointing out the errors 
and faults of pupils is absolutely essential to their progress, 
inasmuch as, unless they are made to see what their faults 
are, they can not be expected to correct them. I admit 



COMMENDATION AND ENCOURAGEMENT. 157 

that this is true to a certain extent, but by no means to so 
great an extent as is often supposed. There are a great 
many ways of teaching pupils to do better what they are 
going to do, besides showing them tlie faults in what they 
have already done. 

Thus, without pointing out the errors and faults which 
he observes, the teacher may only refer to and commend 
what is right, while he at the same time observes and re- 
members the pre\'ailing faults, with a view of adapting his 
future instructions to the removal of them. These instruc- 
tions, when given, will take the form, of course, of general 
information on the art of expressing one's thoughts in writ- 
ing, and on the faults and errors to be avoided, perhaps 
without any, or, at least, very little allusion to those which 
the pupils themselves had committed. Instruction thus 
given, while it will have at least an equal tendency with 
the other mode to form the pupils to habits of correct- 
ness and accuracy, will not have the effect upon their 
mind of disparagement of what they have already done, 
but rather of aid and encouragement for them in regard to 
what they are next to do. In following the instructions 
thus given them, the pupils will, as it were, leave the faults 
previously committed behind them, being even, in many in- 
stances, unconscious, perhaps, of their having themselves 
ever committed them. 

The ingenious mother will find various modes analogous 
to this, of leading her children forward into what is right, 
without at all disturbing their minds by censure of what is 
wrong — a course which it is perfectly safe to pursue in the 
case of all errors and faults which result from inadvertence 
or immaturity. There is, doubtless, another class of faults 
— those of willful carelessness or neglect — which must be 
specially pointed out to the attention of the delinquents, 
and a degree of discredit attached to the commission of 



158 GENTLE MEASURES. 

them, and perhaps, in special cases, some kind of punish- 
ment imposed, as the most pi'oper corrective of the evil. 
And yet, even in cases of carelessness and neglect of duty, 
it will generally be found much more easy to awaken ambi- 
tion, and a desire to improve, in a child, by discovering, if 
possible, something good in his work, and commending 
that, as an encouragement to him to make greater exertion 
the next time, than to attempt to cure him of his negligence 
by calling his attention to the faults which he has commit- 
ted, as subjects of censure, however obvious the faults may 
be, and however deserving of blame. 

The advice, however, made in this chapter, to employ 
commendation and encouragement to a great extent, rather 
than criticism and fault-finding, in the management and in- 
struction of children, must, like all other general counsels of 
the kind, be held subject to all proper limitations and re- 
strictions. Some mother may, perhaps, object to what is 
here advanced, saying, "If I am always indiscriminately 
praising my child's doings, he will become self-conceited 
and vain, and he will cease to make progress, being satis- 
fied with what he has already attained." Of course he will, 
and therefore you must take care not to be always and in- 
discriminately praising him. You must exercise tact and 
good judgment, or at any rate, common sense, in properly 
proportioning your criticism and your praise. There are 
no principles of management, however sound, which may 
not be so exaggerated, or followed with so blind a disre- 
gard of attendant circumstances, as to produce more harm 
than good. 

It must be especially borne in mind that the counsels 
here given in relation to curing the faults of children by 
dealing more with what is good in them than what is bad, 
are intended to apply to faults of ignorance, inadvertence, 
or habit only, and not to acts of known and willful WTong. 



COMMENDATION AND ENCOURAGEMENT. 159 

When we come to cases of deliberate and intentional dis- 
obedience to a parent's commands, or open resistance to his 
authority, something different, or at least something more, 
is required. 

The Principle of Universal Ai^plication. 
In conclusion, it is proper to add that the principle of in- 
fluencing human character and action by noticing and com- 
mending what is right, rather than finding fault with what 
is wrong, is of universal application, with the mature as 
well as with the young. The susceptibility to this influence 
is in full ojjeration in the minds of all men everywhere, and 
acting upon it will lead to the same results in all the rela- 
tions of society. The way to awaken a penurious man to 
the performance of generous deeds is not by remonstrating 
with him, however kindly, on his penuriousness, but by 
watching his conduct till we find some act that bears some 
semblance of liberality, and commending him for that. If 
you have a neighbor who is surly and troublesome — tell 
him that he is so, and you make him worse than ever. 
But watch for some occasion in which he shows you some 
little kindness, and thank him cordially for such a good 
neighborly act, and he will feel a strong desire to repeat it. 
If mankind universally understood this principle, and would 
generally act upon it in their dealings with others — of 
course, with such limitations and restrictions as good sense 
and sound judgment would impose — the world would not 
only go on much more smoothly and harmoniously than it 
does now, but the progress of improvement would, I think, 
in all respects be infinitely more rapid. 



160 GENTLE MEASUBES. 



CHAPTER XIII. 
FAULTS OF IMMATURITY. 

A GREAT portion of the errors and mistakes, and of what 
we call the follies, of children arise from simple ignorance. 
Principles of philosophy, whether pertaining to external na- 
ture or to mental action, are involved which have never 
come home to their minds. They may have been present- 
ed, but they have not been understood and appreciated. It 
requires some tact, and sometimes delicate observation, on 
the part of the mother to determine whether a mode of 
action w^hich she sees ought to be corrected results from 
childish ignorance and inexperience, or from wailful wrong- 
doing. Whatever may be the proper treatment in the lat- 
ter case, it is evident that in the former what is required is 
not censure, but instruction. 

Boastiyig. 

A mother came into the room one day and found Johnny 
disputing earnestly with his Cousin Jane on the question 
which was the tallest — Johnny very strenuously maintaining 
that he was the tallest, hecmtse he icas a hoy. His older 
brother, James, who was present at the time, measured 
them, and found that Johnny in reality was the tallest. 

Now there was nothing wrong in his feeling a pride aflni 
pleasure in the thought that he was physically superior to 
his cousin, and though it was foolish for him to insist him- 
self on this superiority in a boasting way, it was the fool- 
ishness of ignorance only. He had not learned the princi- 
ple — which half mankind do not seem ever to learn during 



FAULTS OF IMMATURITY. 161 

the whole course of their hves — that it is far wiser and bet- 
ter to let our good qualities appear naturally of themselves, 
than to claim credit for them beforehand by boasting. It 
would have been much wiser for Johnny to have admitted 
at the outset that Jane might possibly be taller than he, and 
then to have awaited quietly the result of the measuring. 

But we can not blame him much for not having learned 
this particular wisdom at five years of age, when so many 
full-grown men and women never learn it at all. 

Nor was there any thing blameworthy in him in respect 
to the false logic involved in his argument, that his being a 
boy made him necessarily taller than his cousin, a girl of 
the same age. There was a semblance of proof in that 
fact — what the logicians term a presumption. But the rea- 
soning powers are very slowly developed in childhood. 
They are very seldom aided by any instruction really 
adapted to the improvement of them ; and we ought not 
to expect that such children can at all clearly distinguish a 
semblance from a reality in ideas so extremely abstruse as 
those relating to the logical connection between the prem- 
ises and the conclusion in a process of ratiocination. 

In this case as in the other we expect them to under- 
stand at once, without instruction, what we find it extreme- 
ly difiicult to learn ourselves; for a large portion of man- 
kind prove themselves utterly unable ever to discriminate 
between sound arguments and those which are utterly in- 
consequent and absurd. 

In a word, what Johnny requires in such a case as this 
is, not ridicule to shame him out of his false reasoninof, nor 
censure or punishment to cure him of his boasting, but 
simply instruction. 

And this instruction it is much better to give not in di- 
rect connection with the occurrence which indicated the 
want of it. If you attempt to exj)lain to your boy the 



163 GENTLE MEASURES. 

folly of boasting in immediate connection with some act 
of boasting of his own, he feels that you are really finding 
fault with him ; his mind instinctively puts itself into a po- 
sition of defense, and the truth which you wish to impart 
to it finds a much less easy admission. 

If, for example, in this case Johnny's mother attempts 
on the spot to explain to him the folly of boasting, and to 
show how much wiser it is for us to let our good qualities, 
if we have any, speak for themselves, without any direct 
agency of ours in claiming the merit of them, he listens re- 
luctantly and nervously as to a scolding in disguise. If he 
is a boy well managed, he waits, perhaps, to hear what his 
mother has to say, but it makes no impression. If he is 
badly trained, he will probably interrupt his mother in the 
midst of what she is saying, or break away from her to go 
on with his play. 

A right Mode of Treatment, 

If now, instead of this, the mother waits until the dispute 
and the transaction of measuring have passed by and been 
forgotten, and then takes some favorable opportunity to 
give the required instruction, the result will be far more 
favorable. At some time, when tired of his play, he comes 
to stand by her to observe her at her work, or perhaps to 
ask her for a story ; or, after she has put him to bed and is 
about to leave him for the night, she says to him as follows : 

" I'll tell you a story about two boys. Jack and Henry, 
and you shall tell me which of them came off best. They 
both went to the same school and were in the same class, 
and there was nobody else in the class but those two. 
Henry, who was the most diligent scholar, was at the head 
of the class, and Jack was below him, and, of course, as 
there were only two, he was at the foot. 

"One day there was company at the house, and one of 



FAULTS OF IMMATUBITY. 108 

the ladies asked the boys how they got along at school. 
Jack immediately said, ' Very well. I'm next to the head 
of my class.' The lady then praised him, and said that he 
must be a very good scholar to be so high in his class. 
Then she asked Henry how high he was in his class. He 
said he was next to the foot. 

" The lady was somewhat surprised, for she, as well as 
the others present, supposed that Henry was the best schol- 
ar ; they wxre all a little puzzled too, for Henry looked a 
little roguish and sly when he said it. But just then the 
teacher came in, and she explained the case ; for she said 
that the boys were in the same class, and they were all 
that were in it ; so that Henry, who was really at the head, 
was next but one to the foot, while Jack, who was at the 
foot, was next but one to the head. On having this expla- 
nation made to the company, Jack felt very much confused 
and ashamed, while Henry, though he said nothing, could 
not help feeling pleased. 

" And now," asks the mother, in conclusion, " which of 
these boys do you think came off the best ?" 

Johnny answers that Henry came out best. 

" Yes," adds his mother, " and it is always better that 
people's merits, if they have any, should come out in other 
ways than by their own boasting of them." 

It is true that this case of Henry and Jack does not cor- 
respond exactly — not even nearly, in fact — with that of 
Johnny and his cousin. ISTor is it necessary that the in- 
struction given in these ways should logically conform to 
the incident which calls them forth. It is sufficient that 
there should be such a degree of analogy between them, 
that the interest and turn of thought produced by the in- 
cident may prepare the mind for appreciating and receiv- 
ing the lesson. But the mother may bring the lesson near- 
er if she pleases. 



164 GENTLE MEASURES. 

" I will tell you another story," she says. " There were 
two men at a fair. Their names were Thomas and Philip. 
Thomas was boasting of his strength. He said he was a 
great deal stronger than Philip. * Perhaps you are,' said 
Philip. Then Thomas pointed to a big stone which was 
lying upon the ground, and dared Philip to try which 
could throw it the farthest. ' Yery well,' said Philip, ' I 
will try, but I think it very likely you will beat me, for I 
know you are very strong.' So they tried, and it jDroved 
that Philip could throw it a great deal farther than Thom- 
as could. Then Thomas went away looking very much in- 
censed and very much ashamed, while Philip's triumpli 
was altogether greater for bis not having boasted." 

" Yes," says Johnny, " I think so." 

The mother may, if she pleases, come still nearer than 
this, if she wishes to suit Johnny's individual case, without 
exciting any resistance in his heart to the reception of her 
lesson. She may bring his exact case into consideration, 
provided she changes the names of the actors, so that John- 
ny's mind may be relieved from the uneasy sensitiveness 
which it is so natural for a child to feel when his own con- 
duct is directly the object of unfavorable comment. It is 
surprising how slight a change in the mere outward inci- 
dents of an affair will suffice to divert the thoughts of the 
child from himself in such a case, and enable him to look 
at the lesson to be imparted without personal feeling, and 
so to receive it more readily. 

Johnny's mother may say, " There might be a story in 
a book about two boys that were disputing a little about 
which was the tallest. What do you think would be good 
names for the boys, if you were making up such a story ?" 

When Johnny has proposed the names, his mother could 
go on and give an almost exact narrative of what took place 
between Johnny and his cousin, offering just such instruc- 



FAULTS OF UniATUBITY. 165 

tions and such advice as she would like to offer ; and she 
will find, if she manages the conversation with ordinary 
tact and discretion, that the lessons which she desires to 
impart will find a ready admission to the mind of her child, 
simply from the fact that, by divesting them of all direct 
personal application, she has eliminated from them the ele- 
ment of covert censure which they would otherwise have 
contained. Very slight disguises will, in all such cases, be 
found to be sufficient to veil the personal applicability of 
the instruction, so far as to divest it of all that is painful or 
disagreeable to the child. He may have a vague feeling 
that you mean him, but the feeling will not produce any ef- 
fect of irritation or repellency. 

Kow, the object of these illustrations is to show that 
those errors and faults which, when we look at their real 
and intrinsic character, we see to b« results of ignorance 
and inexperience, and not instances of willful and inten- 
tional w^rong-doing, are not to be dealt with harshly, and 
made occasions of censure and punishment. The child does 
not deserve censure or punishment in such cases ; what he 
requires is instruction. It is the bringing in of light to il- 
luminate the path that is before him w^hich he has yet to 
tread, and not the infliction of pain, to impress upon him 
the evil of the missteps he made, in consequence of the ob- 
scurity, in the path behind him. 

Indeed, in such cases as this, it is the influence of pleas- 
ure rather than pain that the parent will find the most effi- 
cient means of aiding him ; that is, in these cases, the more 
pleasant and agreeable the modes by which he can impart 
the needed knowledge to the child — in other words, the 
more attractive he can make the paths by which he can ^^ 
lead his little charge onward in its progress towards matu* ^ 
ritv — the more successful he will b*.. 



166 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Ignorance of Material Properties and Laws. 

In the example already given, the mental immaturity con- 
sisted in imperfect acquaintance with the qualities and the 
action of the mind, and the principles of sound reasoning; 
but a far larger portion of the mistakes and failures into 
which children fall, and for which they incur undeserved 
censure, are due to their ignorance of the laws of external 
nature, and of the properties and qualities of material objects. 

A boy, for example, seven or eight years old, receives 
from his father a present of a knife, with a special injunc- 
tion to be careful of it. He is, accordingly, very careful of 
it in respect to such dangers as he understands, but in at- 
tempting to bore a hole with it in a piece of wood, out of 
which he is trying to make a windmill, he breaks the small 
blade. The accident, in such a case, is not to be attributed 
to any censurable carelessness, but to want of instruction 
in respect to the strength of such a material as steel, and 
the nature and effects of the degree of tempering given to 
knife-blades. The boy had seen his father bore holes with 
a gimlet, and the knife-blade was larger — in one direction 
at least, that is, in breadth — than the gimlet, and it was 
very natural for him to suppose that it was stronger. 
What a boy needs in such a case, therefore, is not a scold- 
ing, or punishment, but simply information. 

A girl of about the same age — a farmer's daughter, we 
will suppose — under the influence of a dutiful desire to aid 
her mother in preparing the table for breakfast, attempts 
to carry across the room a pitcher of milk which is too full, 
and she spills a portion of it upon the floor. 

The Intention good. 

\'\'he m.other, forgetting the good intention which prompt- 
ed the act, and thinking only of the inconvenience which it 



FAULTS OF IMMATURITY. 169 

occasions her, administers at once a sharp rebuke. The 
cause of the trouble was, simply, that the child was not old 
enough to understand the laws of momentum and of oscil- 
lation that affect the condition of a fluid when subjected 
to movements more or less irregular. She has had no the- 
oretical instruction on the subject, and is too young to have 
acquired the necessary knowledge practically, by experience 
or observation. 

It is so with a very large portion of the accidents which 
befall children. They arise not from any evil design, nor 
even any thing that can properly be called carelessness, on 
their part, but simply from the immaturity of their knowl 
edge in respect to the j^roperties and quahties of the mate 
rial objects with which they have to deal. 

It is true that children may be, and often, doubtless, are, in 
fault for these accidents. The boy may have been warned 
by his father not to attempt to bore with his knife-blade, 
or the girl forbidden to attempt to carry the milk-pitcher. 
The fault, however, w^ould be, even in these cases, in the 
disobedience, and not in the damage that accidentally re- 
sulted from it. And it w^ould be far more reasonable and 
proper to reprove and punish the fault when no evil fol- 
lowed than when a damage was the result; for in the lat- 
ter case the damage itself acts, ordinarily, as a more than 
sufficient punishment. 

Misfortunes hef ailing Men. 

These cases are exactly analogous to a large class of acci- 
dents and calamities that happen among men. A ship-mas- 
ter sails from port at a time when there are causes existing 
in the condition of the atmosphere, and in the agencies in 
readiness to act upon it, that must certainly, in a few hours, 
result in a violent storm. He is consequently caught in the 
gale, and his topmasts and upper rigging are carried away 

H 



170 GENTLE MEASURES. 

The owners do not censure him for the loss which they in- 
cur, if they are only assured that the meteorological knowl- 
edge at the captain's command at the time of leaving port 
was not such as to give him warning of the danger; and 
provided, also, that his knowledge was as advanced as could 
reasonably be expected from the opportunities which he 
had enjoyed. But we are very much inclined to hold chil- 
dren responsible for as much knowledge of the sources of 
danger around them as we ourselves, with all our expe- 
rience, have been able to acquire, and are accustomed to 
condemn and sometimes even to punish them, for want of 
this knowledge. 

Indeed, in many cases, both with children and with men, 
the means of knowledge in respect to the danger may be 
fully within reach, and yet the situation may be so novel, 
and the combination of circumstances so peculiar, that the 
connection between the causes and the possible evil effects 
does not occur to the minds of the persons engaged. An 
accident which has just occurred at the time of this present 
writing will illustrate this. A company of workmen con- 
structing a tunnel for a railway, when they had reached the 
distance of some miles from the entrance, prepared a num- 
ber of charges for blasting the rock, and accidentally laid 
the wires connected with the powder in too close proxim- 
ity to the temporary railway-track already laid in the tun- 
nel. The charges were intended to be fired from an elec- 
tric battery provided for the purpose ; but a thunder-cloud 
came up, and the electric force from it w^as conveyed by the 
rails into the tunnel and exploded the charges, and several 
men were killed. No one was inclined to censure the unfor- 
tunate men for carelessness in not guarding against a contin- 
gency so utterly unforeseen by them, though it is plain that, 
as is often said to children in precisely analogons cases, 
they might have Jcnown. 



FAULTS OF IMMATURITY. 171 

Children's Studies. — Spelling. 

There is, perhaps, no department of the management of 
children in which they incur more mideserved censure, and 
even punishment, and are treated with so little considera- 
tion for faults arising solely from the immaturity of their 
minds, than in the direction of what may be called school 
studies. Few people have any proper appreciation of the 
enormous difficulties which a child has to encounter in 
learning to read and spell. How many parents become 
discouraged, and manifest their discouragement and dissat- 
isfaction to the child in reproving and complaints, at what 
they consider his slow progress in learning to spell — for- 
getting that in the English language there are in common, 
every-day use eight or ten thousand words, almost all of 
which are to be learned separately, by a bare and cheerless 
toil of committing to memory, with comparatively little 
definite help from the sound, f We have ourselves become 
so accustomed to seeing the word 5e«r, for example, when 
denoting the animal, spelt h ea r, that we are very prone 
to imagine that there is sometliing naturally appropriate in 
those letters and in that collocation of them, to represent 
that sound when used to denote that idea. But what is 
there in the nature and power of the letters to aid the child 
in perceiving — or, when told, in remembering — w^hether, 
when referring to the animal, he is to write hea?^, or bare, or 
bair, or baj/r, or bere, as in tchere. So with the word you. 
It seems to us the most natural thing in the world to spell 
it y u. And when the little pupil, judging by the sound, 
writes it y ti, we mortify him by our ridicule, as if he had 
done something in itself absurd. But how is he to know, 
except by the hardest, most meaningless, and distasteful toil 
of the memory, whether he is to Avrite you, or yu, or yoo, 
or eice, or yeic, or yue, as in flue, or even yo as in do, and to 



172 GENTLE MEASURES. 

determine when and in what cases respectively he is to use 
those different forms ? 

The truth is, that each elementary sound that enters into 
the composition of words is represented in our language 
by so many different combinations of letters, in different 
cases, that the child has very little clue from the sound of a 
syllable to guide him in the spelling of it. We ourselves, 
from long habit, have become so accustomed to what we 
call the right sjoelliug — which, of course, means nothing 
more than the customary one — that we are apt to imagine, 
as has already been said, that there is some natural fitness 
in it; and a mode of representing the same sound, which in 
one case seems natural and proper, in another appears lu- 
dicrous and absurd. We smile to see laugh spelled Icirf, 
just as we should to see scarf spelled scaugh, or scalf as 
m half; and we forget that this perception of apparent in- 
congruity is entirely the result of long habit in us, and has 
no natural foundation, and that children can not be sensi- 
ble of it, or have any idea of it whatever. They learn, in 
learning to talk, what sound serves as the name by which 
the drops of water that they find upon the grass in the 
morning is denoted, but they can have no clue whatever to 
guide them in determining which of the various modes by 
which precisely that sound is represented in different words, 
as deio^ do, due, du, doo, and dou, is to be employed in this 
case, and they become involved in hopeless perplexity if 
they attempt to imagine "how it ought to he spelled f* and 
we think them stupid because they can not extricate them- 
selves from the difliculty on our calling upon them to 
" think !" No doubt there is a reason for the particular 
mode of spelling each particular word in the language — but 
that reason is hidden in the past history of the word and 
in facts connected with its origin and derivation from some 
barbarous or dead language, and is as utterly beyond the 



FAULTS OF IMMATURITY. 173 

reach of each generation of spellers as if there were no 
such reasons in existence. There can not be the slightest 
help in any way from the exercise of the thinking or the 
reasoning powers. 

It is true that the variety of the modes by which a given 
sound may be represented is not so great in all words as it 
is in these examples, though with respect to a vast number 
of the words in common use the above are fair specimens. 
They were not specially selected, but were taken almost at 
random. And there are very few w^ords in the language 
the sound of which might not be represented by several 
different modes. 

Take, for example, the three last words of the last sen- 
tence, which, as the words were written without any thought 
of using them for this purpose, may be considered, perhaps, 
as a fair specimen of words taken actually at random. The 
sound of the word several might be exj^ressed in perfect ac- 
cordance with the usage of English spelling, as ceveral, sev- 
end, sevarul, cevui^al, and in many other different modes. 
The combinations dipherant, diferunt, dyfferent, diffurunt, 
and many others, would as well represent the sound of the 
second word as the usual mode. And so with modes, which, 
according to the analogy of the language, might as well 
be expressed by moads, mowdes, moades, tnohdes, or even 
mhodes, as in Rhodes. 

An exceptionally precise s^^eaker might doubtless make 
some slight difference in the sounds indicated by the dif- 
ferent modes of representing the same syllable as given 
above; but to the ordinary appreciation of childhood the 
distinction in sound between such combinations, for exam- 
ple, as an t m constant and e7it m different would not be 
perceptible. 

Now, when we consider the obvious fact that the child 
has to learn mechanically, without any principles whatever 



174 GENTLE MEASURES. 

to guide him in discovering which, out of the many differ- 
ent forms, equally probable, judging simj^ly from analogy, 
by which the sound of the word is to be expressed, is the 
right one ; and considering how small a portion of his time 
each day is or can be devoted to this work, and that the 
number of words in common use, all of which he is expect- 
ed to know how to si3ell correctly by the time that he is 
twelve or fifteen years of age, is probably ten or twelve 
thousand (there are in Webster's dictionary considerably 
over a hundred thousand) ; when we take these considera- 
tions into account, it would seem that a parent, on finding 
that a letter written by his daughter, twelve or fourteen 
years of age, has all but three or four words spelled right, 
ought to be pleased and satisfied, and to express his satis- 
faction for the encouragement of the learner, instead of ap- 
pearing to think only of the few words that are wrong, and 
disheartening and discouraging the child by attempts to 
make her ashamed of her spelling. 

The case is substantially the same with the enormous 
difiaculties to be encountered in learning to read and to 
WTite. The names of the letters, as the child pronounces 
them individually, give very little clue to the sound that 
is to be given to the word formed by them. Thus, the 
letters h i t, as the child pronounces them individually — 
aitch, eye, tee — would naturally spell to him some such 
word as achite, not hit at all. And as for the labor and 
difiiculty of writing, a mother who is impatient at the 
slow progress of her children in the attainment of the 
art would be aided very much in obtaining a just idea 
of the difficulties which they experience by sitting upon 
a chair and at a table both much too high for her, and 
trying to copy Chinese characters by means of a hair-pen- 
cil, and with her left hand — the work to be closely in- 
spected every day by a stern Chinaman of whom she stands 



FAVZTS OF IMMATURITY. 175 

in awe, and all the minutest deviations from the copy point- 
ed out to her attention with an air of dissatisfax3tion and 
reproval ! 

Effect of Ridicule. 

There is, perhaps, no one cause which exerts a greater 
influence in chilling the interest that children naturally feel 
in the acquisition of knowledge, than the depression and 
discouragement which result from having their mistakes 
and errors — for a large portion of which they are in no 
sense to blame — made subjects of censure or ridicule. The 
effect is still more decided in the case of girls than in that 
of boys, the gentler sex being naturally so much more sen- 
sitive. I have found in many cases, especially in respect to 
girls who are far enough advanced to have had a tolerably 
full experience of the usual influences of schools, that the 
fear of making mistakes, and of being " thought stupid," 
has had more effect in hindering and retarding progress, by 
repressing the natural ardor of the pupil, and destroying all 
alacrity and courage in the efforts to advance, than all other 
causes combined. 

Stupidity. 

How ungenerous, and even cruel, it is to reproach or rid- 
icule a child for stupidity, is evident when we reflect that 
any supposed inferiority in his mental organization can not, 
by any possibility, be Ms fault. The question what degree 
of natural intelligence he shall be endowed with, in compar- 
ison with other children, is determined, not by himself, but 
by his Creator, and depends, probably, upon conditions of 
organization in his cerebral system as much beyond his 
control as any thing abnormal in the features of his face, or 
blindness, or deafness, or any other physical disadvantage. 
The child who shows any indications of inferiority to oth- 



176 GENTLE MEASURES. 

ers in any of these respects should be the object of his paiv 
ent's or his teacher's special tenderness and care. If he is 
near-sighted, give him, at school, a seat as convenient as 
possible to the blackboard or the map. If he is hard of 
hearing, place him near the teacher ; and for reasons pre- 
cisely analogous, if you suspect him to be of inferior capac- 
ity, help him gently and tenderly in every possible way. 
Do every thing in your power to encourage him, and to 
conceal his deficiencies both from others and from himself, 
so far as these objects can be attained consistently with the 
general good of the family or of the school. 

And, at all events, let those who have in any way the 
charge of children keep the distinction well defined in their 
minds betw^een the faults which result from evil intentions, 
or deliberate and willful neglect of known duty, and those 
which, whatever the inconvenience they may occasion, are 
in part or in whole the results of mental or physical imma- 
turity. In all our dealings, whether with plants, or ani- 
mals, or with the human soul, we ought, in our training, to 
act very gently in respect to all that pertains to the embryo 
condition. 



THE ACTIVITY OF CHILDREN. 177 



CHAPTER XIV. 

THE ACTIVITY OF CHILDREN. 

Ik order rightly to understand the true nature of that 
extraordmary activity which is so noticeable in all children 
that are in a state of health, so as to be able to deal with 
it on the right principles and in a proper manner, it is nec- 
essary to turn our attention somewhat carefully to certain 
scientific truths in respect to the nature and action of force 
in general which are now abundantly established, and which 
throw great light on the true character of that peculiar 
form of it which is so characteristic of childhood, and is, in- 
deed, so abundantly developed by the vital functions of al- 
most all young animals. One of the fundamental princi- 
ples of this system of scientific truth is that which is called 
the persistence of force. 

The Persistence of Force. 

By the persistence of force is meant the principle — one 
now established with so much certainty as to command the 
assent of every thinking man who examines the subject — 
that in the ordinary course of nature no force is either ever 
originated or ever destroyed, but only changed in form. 
In other words, that all existing forces are but the contin- 
uation or prolongation of other forces preceding them, ei- 
ther of the same or other forms, but precisely equivalent 
in amount; and that no force can terminate its action in 
any other way than by being transmuted into some other 
force, either of the same or of some other form ; but still, 
again, precisely equivalent in amount. 

H 2 



178 GENTLE MEASURES. 

It was formerly believed that a force mi2:lit under cer- 
tain circumstances be originated — created, as it were — and 
hence the attempts to contrive macl lines for perpetual mo- 
tion — that is, machines for the production of force. This 
idea is now wholly renounced by all well-informed men as 
utterly impossible in the nature of things. All that hu- 
man mechanism can do is to provide modes for using ad- 
vantageously a force previously existing, without the pos- 
sibility of either increasing or diminishing it. No existing 
force can be destroyed. The only changes possible are 
changes of direction, changes in the relation of intensity 
to quantity, and changes of form. 

Tlie cases in which a force is apparently increased or di- 
minished, as well as those in which it seems to disappear, 
are all found, on examination, to be illusive. For example, 
the apparent increase of a man's power by the use of a le- 
ver is really no increase at all. It is true that, by pressing 
upon the outer arm with his own weight, he can cause the 
much greater weight of the stone to rise ; but then it will 
rise only a very little way in comparison with the distance 
through which his own weight descends. His own weight 
must, in fact, descend through a distance as much greater 
than that by which the stone ascends, as the weight of the 
stone is greater than his weight. In other words, so far as 
the balance of the forces is concerned, the whole amount 
of the downward motion consists of the smaller weight de- 
scending through a greater distance, which will be equal 
to the whole amount of that of the larger one ascending 
through a smaller distance ; and, to produce a j^reponder- 
ance, the whole amount of the downward force must be 
somewhat greater. Thus the lever only gathers or concen- 
trates force, as it were, but does not at all increase it. 

It is so with all the other contrivances for managing 
force for the accomplishment of particular purposes. None 



THE ACTIVITY OF CHILDREX. 179 

of them inci'ease the force, but only alter its form and char- 
acter, with a view to its better adaptation to the purpose in 
view. 

Nor can any force be extinguished. When a bullet 
strikes against a solid wall, the force of its movement, 
which seems to disappear, is not lost; it is converted into 
heat — the temperature of both the bullet and of that part 
of the wall on which it impinges being raised by the con- 
cussion. And it is found that the amount of the heat which 
is thus produced is always in exact proportion to the quan- 
tity of mechanical motion which is stopped ; this quantity 
depending on the weight of the bullet, and on the velocity 
with which it was moving. And it has been ascertained, 
moreover, by the most careful, patient, and many times re- 
peated experiments and calculations, that the quantity of 
this heat is exactly the same with that which, through 
the medium of steam, or by any other mode of applying 
it, may be made to produce the same quantity of me- 
chanical motion that was extinguished in the bullet. Thus 
the force was not destroyed, but only converted into another 
form. 

And if we should follow out the natural effects of this 
lieat into which the motion of the bullet was transferred^ 
we should find it rarefying the air around the place of con- 
cussion, and thus lifting the whole mass of the atmosphere 
above it, and producing currents of the nature of wind, and 
through these producing other effects, thus going on for- 
ever; the force changing its form, but neither increasing 
or diminishing its quantity through a series of changes 
W'ithout end. 

The Arrest and temporary Preservation of Force. 

Now, although it is thus impossible that any force sliould 
be destroyed, or in any way cease to exist in one form 



180 GENTLE MEASURES. 

without setting in action a precisely equal amount in some 
other form, it may, as it were, pass into a condition of re- 
straint, and remain thus suspended and latent for an indefi- 
nite period — ready, however, to break into action again the 
moment that the restraint is removed. Thus a perfectly 
elastic spring may be bent by a certain force, and retained 
in the bent position a long time. But the moment that it is 
released it will unbend itself, exercising in so doing precise- 
ly the degree of force expended in bending it. In the same 
manner air may be compressed in an air-gun, and held thus, 
with the force, as it were, imprisoned, for any length of 
time, until at last, when the detent is released by the trig- 
ger, the elastic force comes into action, exercising in its ac- 
tion a power precisely the same as that with which it was 
compressed. 

Force or power may be thus, as it were, stored up in a 
countless variety of ways, and reserved for future action; 
and, when finally released, the whole amount may be set 
free at once, so as to expend itself in a single impulse, as in 
case of the arrow or the bullet; or it may be partially re- 
strained, so as to expend itself gradually, as in the case of 
a clock or watch. In either case the total amount expend- 
ed will be precisely the same — namely, the exact equivalent 
of that which was placed in store. 

Vegetable and Animal Life. 

There are a vast number of mechanical contrivances in use 
among men for thus putting force in store, as it were, and 
then using it more or less gradually, as may be required. 
And nature, moreover, does this on a scale so stupendous 
as to render all human contrivances for this purpose utterly 
insignificant in comparison. The great agent which nature 
employs in this Avork is vegetation. Indeed, it may truly 
be said that the great function of vegetable life, in all the 



THE ACTIVITY OF CHTLBHEN. 181 

infinitude of forms and characters which it assumes, is to 
receive and store up force derived from the emanations of 
the sun. 

Animal life, on the other hand, exists and fulfills its func- 
tions by the expenditure of this force. Animals receive 
vegetable productions containing these reserves of force 
into their systems, which systems contain arrangements for 
liberating the force, and employing it for the purposes it is 
intended to subserve in the animal economy. 

The manner in which these processes are performed is 
in general terms as follows : The vegetable absorbs from 
the earth and from the air substances existing in their nat- 
ural condition — that is, united according to their strongest 
affinities. These substances are chiefly water, containing 
various mineral salts in solution, from the ground, and car- 
bonic acid from the air. These substances, after under- 
going certain changes in the vessels of the plant, are ex- 
posed to the influence of the rays of the sun in the leaves. 
By the power of these rays — including the calorific, the lu- 
minous, and the actinic — the natural affinities by which the 
above-mentioned substances were united are overcome, and 
they are formed into new combinations, in which they are 
united by very weak affinities. Of course, they have a 
strong tendency to break away from the new unions, and 
fall back into the old. But, by some mysterious and in- 
comprehensible means, the sun has power to lock them, so 
to speak, in their new forms, so as to require a special con- 
dition of things for the releasing of them. Thus they form 
a reserve of force, which can be held in restraint until the 
conditions required for their release are realized. 

The process can be illustrated more particularly by a 
single case. Water, one of the substances absorbed by 
plants, is composed of oxygen and hydrogen, which are 
united by an affinity of prodigious force. It is the same 



182 OENTLE MEASURES. 

with carbon and oxygen, in a compound called carbonic 
acid, which is also one of the principal substances absorbed 
by plants from the air. Now the heat and other emana- 
tions from the sun, acting upon these substances in the 
leaves, forces the hydrogen and the carbon away from their 
strong bond of union with oxygen, and sets the oxygen 
fi'ee, and then combines the carbon and hydrogen into a 
sort of unwilling union with each other — a union from 
which they are always ready and eager to break away, that 
they may return to their union with the object of their 
former and much stronger attachment — namely, oxygen; 
though they are so locked, by some mysterious means, that 
they can not break away except when certain conditions 
necessary to their release are realized. 

Sydrocarhons. 

The substances thus formed by a weak union of carbon 
with hydrogen are called hydrocarbons. They comprise 
nearly all the highly inflammable vegetable substances. 
Their being combustible means simply that they have a 
great disposition to resume their union with oxygen — 
combustion being nothing other than a more or less violent 
return of a substance to a union with oxygen or some oth- 
er such substance, usually one from which it had formerly 
been separated by force — giving out again by its return, in 
the form of heat, the force by which the original separation 
had been effected. 

A compound formed thus of substances united by very 
weak affinities, so that they are always ready to separate 
from each other and form new unions under the influence 
of stronger affinities, is said to be in a state of unstable 
equilibrium. It is the function of vegetable life to create 
these unstable combinations by means of the force derived 
from the sun ; and the combinations, when formed, of course 



THE ACTIVITY OF CHILDREN. 183 

hold the force which formed them in reserve, ready to 
make itself manifest whenever it is released. Animals re- 
ceive these substances into their systems in their food. 
A portion of them they retain, re-arranging the compo- 
nents in some cases so as to form new compounds, but still 
unstable. These they use in constructing the tissues of the 
animal system, and some they reserve for future use. As 
fast as they require the heat and the force which are stored 
in them they expend them, thus recovering the force which 
was absorbed in the formation of them, and which now, on 
being released, re-appears in the three forms of animal 
heat, muscular motion, and cerebral or nervous energy. 

There are other modes besides the processes of animal 
life by which the reserved force laid up by the vegetable 
process in these unstable compounds may be released. In 
many cases it releases itself under ordinary exposures to 
the oxygen of the atmosphere. A log of wood — which is 
composed chiefly of carbon and hydrogen in an unstable 
union — lying upon the ground will gradually decay, as we 
term it — that is, its elements will separate from each other, 
and form new unions with the elements of the surrounding 
air, thus returning to their normal condition. They give 
out, in so doing, a low degree of heat, which, being pro- 
tracted through a course of years, makes up, in the end, the 
precise equivalent of that expended by the sun in forming 
the wood — that is, the power expended in the formation of 
the wood is all released in the dissolution of it. 

This process may be greatly accelerated by heat. If a 
portion of the wood is raised in temperature to a certain 
point, the elements begin to combine with the oxygen near, 
with so much violence as to release the reserved power 
with great rapidity. And as this force re-appears in the 
form of heat, the next portions of the wood are at once 
raised to the right temperature to allow the process of re 



184 GENTLE MEASURES. 

oxidation to go on rapidly with them. This is the process 
of combustion. Observations and experiments on decay- 
ing wood have been made, showing that the amount of heat 
developed by the combustion of a mass of wood, though 
much more intense for a time, is the same in amount as 
that which is set free by the slower process of re-oxidation 
by gradual decay ; both being the equivalent of the amount 
absorbed by the leaves from the sun, in the process of de- 
oxidizing the carbon and hydrogen when the wood was 
formed. 

The force imj^risoned in these unstable compounds may 
be held in reserve for an unlimited period, so long as all 
opportunity is denied them of returning the elements that 
compose them to their original combinations. Such a case 
occurs when large beds of vegetable substances are buried 
under layers of sediment which subsequently become stone^ 
and thus shut the hydrocarbonaceous compounds beneath 
them from all access to oxygen. The beds of coal thus 
formed retain their reserved force for periods of immense 
duration ; and when at length the material thus protected 
is brought to the surface, and made to give up its treasured 
power, it manifests its efficiency in driving machinery, pro- 
pelling trains, heating furnaces, or diffusing warmth and 
comfort around the family fireside. In all these cases the 
heat and power developed from the coal is heat and power 
derived originally from the sun, and now set free, after 
having lain dormant thousands and perhaps millions of 
years. 

This simple case of the formation of hydrocarbons from 
the elements furnished by carbonic acid and water is only 
adduced as an illustration of the general principle. The 
modes by which the power of the sun actually takes effect 
in the decomposition of stable compounds, and the forma- 
tion of unstable ones from the elements thus obtained, are 



THE ACTIVITY OF CHILDREN. 185 

innumerable, and the processes as well as the combinations 
that result are extremely complicated. These processes 
include not only the first formation of the unstable com- 
pounds in the leaf, but also an endless series of modifica- 
tions and re-arrangements which they subsequently under- 
go, as well in the other organs of the plant as in those of 
the animal when they are finally introduced into an animal 
system. In all, however, the general result is substantially 
the same — namely, the forcing of elements into unnatural 
combinations, so to speak, by the power of the sun acting 
through the instrumentality of vegetation, in order that 
they may subsequently, in the animal system, give out that 
power again by the effort they make to release themselves 
from the coercion imposed upon them, and to return to the 
natural unions in which they can find again stability and 
repose. 

One of the chief elements employed in the formation of 
these weakly-combined substances is nitrogen — its com- 
230unds being designated as nitrogenous substances, and 
noted, as a class, for the facility with which they are de- 
composed. Nitrogen is, in fact, the great loeak-holder of 
nature. Young students in chemistry, when they learn 
that nitrogen is distinguished by the weakness of its affini- 
ties for other elements, and its consequent great inertness 
as a chemical agent, are often astonished to find that its 
compounds — such as nitric acid, nitre, which gives its ex- 
plosive character to gunpowder, nitro-glycerine, gun-cot- 
ton, and various other explosive substances which it helps 
to form — are among the most remarkable in nature for the 
violence and intensity of their action, and for the extent to 
which the principle of vitality avails itself of them as mag- 
azines oi force, upon which to draw in the fulfillment of its 
various functions. 

But this is really just what should be expected. It is the 



186 GENTLE MEASURES. 

very weakness of the hold which nitrogen maintains upon 
the elements combined with it that faciUtates their release, 
and affords them the opportunity to seize with so much 
avidity and violence on those for which they have a strong 
attraction. 

It is as if a huntsman should conduct a pack of ferocious 
dogs into a field occupied by a flock of sheep, quietly graz- 
ing, holding the dogs securely by very strong leashes. The 
quiet and repose of the field might not be seriously dis- 
turbed ; but if, on the other hand, a child comes in, lead- 
ing the dogs by threads which they can easily sunder, a 
scene of the greatest violence and confusion would ensue. 

In the same manner, when nitrogen, holding the particles 
of oxygen with which it is combined in the compounds 
above named by a very feeble control, brings them into the 
presence of other substances for which they have a very 
strong afiinity, they release themselves at once from their 
weak custodian, and rush into the combinations which their 
nature demands with so much avidity as to produce com- 
bustions, deflagrations, and explosions of the most violent 
character. 

The force which the elements display in these reunions 
is always — and this is one aspect of the great discovery of 
modern times in respect to the 2^ersiste7ice or constancy of 
force which has already been referred to — precisely the 
same in amount as that which was required for dissever- 
ing them from their original combinations with such sub- 
stances at some previous time. The^^rocesses of vegetation 
are the chief means employed for effecting the original sep- 
arations, by the power of the sun, and for forming the un- 
stable compounds by which this power is held in reserve. 
The animal systeon, on the other hand, takes in these com- 
pounds, remodels them so far as is required to adapt them 
to its structure, assimilates them, and then, as occasion re- 



THE ACTIVITY OF CHILDREN. 187 

quires, it releases the concealed force, which then manifests 
itself in the forms of animal heat, of muscular motion, and 
of cerebral and nervous power. 

In what way, and to what extent, the knowledge of these 
truths should influence us in the management and training 
of children in respect to their extraordinary activity, is the 
question we have next to consider. 

Practical Applications of these Principles. 

If we watch a bird for a little while hopping along upon 
the ground, and up and down between the ground and the 
branches of a tree, we shall at first be surprised at his in- 
cessant activity, and next, if we reflect a little, at the ut- 
ter aimlessness and uselessness of it. He runs a little w^iy 
along the path ; then he hops up upon a twig, then down 
again upon the ground; then "makes believe" peck at 
something which he imagines or pretends that he sees in 
the grass ; then, canting his head to one side and upward, 
the branch of a tree there happens to strike his eye, upon 
which he at once flies up to it. Perching himself upon it 
for the moment, he utters a burst of joyous song, and 
then, instantly afterwards, down he comes upon the ground 
again, runs along, stops, runs along a little farther, stops 
again, looks around him a moment, as if wondering what to 
do next, and then flies off out of our field of view. If we 
could follow, and had patience to watch him so long, we 
should find him continuing this incessantly changing but 
never-ceasing activity all the day long. 

We sometimes imagine that the bird's movements are to 
be explained by supposing that he is engaged in the search 
for food in these evolutions. But when we reflect how 
small a quantity of food his little crop will contain, we shall 
be at once convinced that a large proportion of his apparent 
pecking for food is only make-believe, and that he moves 



188 GENTLE MEASURES. 

thus incessantly not so much on account of the end he seeks 
to attain by it, as on account of the very pleasure of the 
motion. He hops about and pecks, not for the love of any 
thing he expects to find, but just for the love of hopping 
and pecking. 

The real explanation is that the food which he has taken 
is delivering up, within his system, the force stored in it 
that was received originally from the beams of the sun, 
while the plant which produced it was growing. This 
force must have an outlet, and it finds this outlet in the in- 
cessant activity of the bird's muscles and brain. The vari- 
ous objects which attract his attention without, invite the 
force to expend itself in certain special directions; but the 
impelling cause is within, and not without ; and were there 
nothing without to serve as objects for its action, the neces- 
sity of its action would be none the less imperious. The 
lion, when imprisoned in his cage, walks to and fro continu- 
ously, if there is room for him to take two steps and turn ; 
and if there is not room for this, he moves his head inces- 
santly from side to side. The force within him, which his 
vital organs are setting at liberty from its imprisonment in 
his food, must in some way find issue. 

Mothers do not often stop to speculate upon, and may 
even, perhaps, seldom observe the restless and incessant 
activity of birds, but that of their children forces itself 
upon their attention by its effects in disturbing their own 
quiet avocations and pleasures; and they often wonder 
what can be the inducement which leads to such a perpet- 
ual succession of movements made apparently without mo- 
tive or end. And, not perceiving any possible inducement 
to account for it, they are apt to consider this restless ac- 
tivity so causeless and unreasonable as to make it a fault 
for which the child is to be censured or punished, or which 
they are to attempt to cure by means of artificial restraints. 



THE ACTIVITY OF CHILDREN. 189 

They would not attempt such repressions as this if they 
were aware that all this muscular and mental energy of ac- 
tion in the child is only the outward manifestation of an in- 
ward force developed in a manner wholly independent of 
its will — a force, too, which must spend itself in some ^^ay 
or other, and that, if not allowed to do this in its own way, 
by impelling the limbs and members to outward action, it 
will do so by destroying the dehcate mechanism within. 
We see this in the case of men who are doomed for longr 
periods to solitary confinement. The force derived from 
their food, and released within their systems by the vital 
processes, being cut off by the silence and solitude of the 
dungeon from all usual and natural outlets, begins to work 
mischief within, by disorganizing the cerebral and other vi- 
tal organs, and producing insanity and death. 

Common Mistake. 

We make a great mistake when we imagine that children 
are influenced in their activity mainly by a desire for the 
objects which they attain by it. It is not the ends attained, 
but the pleasurable feeling which the action of the internal 
force, issuing by its natural channels, affords them, and the 
sense of power which accompanies the action. An end 
which presents itself to be attained invites this force to act 
in one direction rather than another, but it is the action, 
and not the end, in which the charm resides. 

Give a child a bow and arrow, and send him out into the 
yard to try it, and if he does not happen to see any thing 
to shoot at, he will shoot at random into the air. But if 
there is any object which will serve as a mark in sight, it 
seems to have the effect of drawing his aim towards it. 
He shoots at the vane on the barn, at an apple on a tree, a 
knot in a fence — any thing which will serve the purpose of 
a mark. This is not because he has any end to accomplish 



190 GENTLE MEASURES. 

in hitting the vane, the apple, or the knot, but only because 
there is an impulse within him leading him to shoot, and if 
there happens to be any thing to shoot at, it gives that im 
pulse a direction. 

It is precisely the same with the incessant muscular ac- 
tivity of a child. He comes in:bo a room and sits down in 
the first seat that he sees. Then he jumps up and runs to 
another, then to another, until he has tried all the seats in 
the room. This is not because he particularly w'ishes to 
try the seats. He wishes to move, and the seats happen 
to be at hand, and they simply give direction to the im- 
pulse. If he were out of doors, the same office w ould be 
fulfilled by a fence which he might climb over, instead of 
going through an open gate close by; or a w^all that he 
could walk upon with difficulty, instead of going, without 
difficulty, along a path at the foot of it; or a pole which he 
could try to climb, when there was no motive for climbing 
it but a desire to make muscular exertion ; or a steep bank 
w^here he can scramble up, when there is nothing that he 
wishes for on the top of it. 

In other words, the things that children do are not done 
for the sake of the things, but for the sake of the doing. 

Parents very often do not understand this, and are accord- 
ingly continually asking such foolish questions as, " George, 
what do you wish to climb over that fence for, when the^'e 
is a gate all open close by?" "James, what good do you 
expect to get by climbing up that tree, when you know 
there is nothing on it, not even a bird's nest?" and, " Lucy, 
what makes you keep jumping up all the time and running 
about to different places ? Why can't you, when you get a 
good seat, sit still in it?" 

The children, if they understood the philosophy of the 
case, might answer, " We don't climb over the fence at all 
because we wish to be on the other side of it ; or scramble 



. THE ACTIVITY OF CHILDBEN. 191 

np the bank for the sake of any thing that is on the top of 
it ; or run about to different places because we wish to be 
in the places particularly. It is the internal force that is 
in us working itself off, and it works itself off in the ways 
that come most readily to hand." 

Various Modes in which the Reserved Force reappears. 

The force thus stored in the food and liberated within 
the system by the vital processes, finds scope for action in 
several different ways, prominent among which are, First, in 
the production of animal heat; Secondly, in muscular con- 
tractions and the motions of the limbs and members result- 
ing from them ; and Thirdly, in mental phenomena connect- 
ed with the action of the brain and the nerves. This last 
branch of the subject is yet enveloped in great mystery; 
but the proof seems to be decisive that the nervous system 
of man comprises organs which are actively exercised in 
the performance of mental operations, and that in this exer- 
cise they consume important portions of the vital force. If, 
for example, a child is actually engaged at play, and we di- 
rect him to take a seat and sit still, he will find it very dif- 
ficult to do so. The inward force will soon begin to strug- 
gle within him to find an issue. But if, while he is so sit- 
ting, we begin to relate to him some very surprising or ex- 
citing story, to occupy his mind, he will become motionless, 
and very likely I'emain so until the story is ended. It is 
supposed that in such cases the force is drawn off, so to 
speak, through the cerebral organs which it is employed in 
keeping in play, as the instruments by which the emotions 
and ideas which the story awakens in the mind are evolved. 
This part of the subject, as has already been remarked, is 
full of mystery ; but the general fact that a po)*t,ion of the 
force derived from the food is expended in actions of the 
brain and nervous system seems well established. 



192 OENTLE MEASURES. 

Indeed, the whole subject of the reception and the stor- 
ing lip of force from the sun by the processes of vegetable 
and animal life, and the subsequent liberation of it in the 
iulfillment of the various functions of the animal system, is 
full of difficulties and mysteries. It is only a very simple 
view of the general principle which is presented in these 
articles. In nature the operations are not simple at all. 
They are involved in endless complications which are yet 
only to a very limited extent unravelled. The general prin- 
ciple is, however, well established ; and if understood, even 
as a general principle, by parents and teachers, it will great- 
ly modify their action in dealing with the incessant restless- 
ness and activity of the young. It will teach them, among 
other things, the following practical rules : 

Practical Rules. 

1. Never find fault with children for their incapacity to 
keep still. You may stop the supply of force, if you will, 
by refusing to give them food; but if you continue the 
supply, you must not complain of its manifesting itself in 
action. After giving your boy his breakfast, to find fault 
with him for being incessantly in motion when his system 
has absorbed it, is simply to find fault with him for being 
healthy and happy. To give children food and then to 
restrain the resulting activity, is conduct very analogous 
to that of the engineer who should lock the action of his 
engine, turn all the stop-cocks, and shut down the safety- 
valve, while he still went on all the time putting in coal un- 
der the boiler. The least that he could expect would be a 
great hissing and fizzling at all the joints of his machine; 
and it would be only by means of such a degree of loose- 
ness in the joints as would allow of the escape of the impris- 
oned force in this way that could prevent the repression 
ending in a frightful catastrophe. 



THE ACTIVITY OF CHILDREN, 193 

l^ow, nine-tenths of the whispering and playing of chil- 
dren in school, and of the noise, the rudeness, and the petty 
mischief of children at home, is just this hissing and fiz- 
zling of an imprisoned power, and nothing more. 

In a word, we must favor and promote, by every means 
in our power, the activity of children, not censure and re- 
press it. We may endeavor to turn it aside from wrong 
channels — that is, to prevent its manifesting itself in ways 
injurious to them or annoying to others. We must not, 
however, attempt to divert it from these channels by dam- 
ming it up, but by opening other channels that will draw it 
away in better directions. 

2. In encouraging the activity of children, and in guid- 
ing the direction of it in their hours of play, we must not ex- 
pect to make it available for useful results, other than that 
of promoting their own physical development and health. 
At least, we can do this only in a very limited degree. 
Almost all useful results require for their attainment a long 
continuance of efforts of the same kind — that is, expendi- 
ture of the vital force by the continued action of the same 
organs. Now, it is a principle of nature that while the or- 
gans of an animal system are in process of formation and 
growth, they can exercise their power only for a very brief 
period at a time without exhaustion. This necessitates on 
the part of all young animals incessant changes of action, 
or alternations of action and repose. A farmer of forty 
years of age, whose organs are well developed and mature, 
will chop wood all day without excessive fatigue. Then, 
when he comes home at night, he will sit for three hours in 
the evening upon the settle by his fireside, thi7iki7ig — his 
mind occupied, perhaps, upon the details of the manage- 
ment of his farm, or upon his plans for the following day. 
The vital force thus expends itself for many successive 
hours through his muscles, and then, while his muscles are 

I 



X^ GENTLE MEASUIiES. 

at rest, it finds its egress for several other hours through 
the brain. But in the child the mode of action must 
change every few minutes. He is made tired with five 
minutes' labor. He is satisfied with five minutes' rest. He 
will ride his rocking-horse, if alone, a shoi't time, and then 
he comes to you to ask you to tell him a story. While list- 
ening to the story, his muscles are resting, and the force is 
spending its strength in working the mechanism of the 
brain. If you make your story too long, the brain, in turn, 
becomes fatigued, and he feels instinctively impelled to di- 
vert the vital force again into muscular action. 

If, instead of being alone with his rocking-horse, he has 
company there, he will seem to continue his bodily effort a 
long time ; but he does not really do so, for he stops con- 
tinually, to talk with his companion, thus allowing his mus- 
cles to rest for a brief period, during which the vital force 
expends its strength in carrying on trains of thought and 
emotion through the brain. 

He is not to be blamed for this seeming capriciousness. 
These frequent changes in the mode of action are a neces- 
sity, and this necessity evidently unfits him for any kind of 
monotonous or continued exertion — the only kind Avhich, in 
ordinary cases, can be made conducive to any useful results. 

3. Parents at home and teachers at school must recog- 
nize these physiological laws, relating to the action of the 
young, and make their plans and arrangements conform 
to them. The periods of confinement to any one mode of 
action in the very young, and especially mental action, must 
be short ; and they must alternate frequently with other 
modes. That rapid succession of bodily movements and 
of mental ideas, and the emotions mingling and alternating 
with them, which constitutes what children call play, must 
be regarded not simply as an indulgence, but as a necessity 
for them. The play must be considered as essential as the 



THE ACTIVITY OF CHILDREN. 195 

study, and that not merely for the very young but for all, 
up to the age of maturity. For older pupils, in the best 
institutions of the country, some suitable provision is made 
for this want ; but the mothers of young children at home 
are often at a loss by what means to effect this purpose, 
and many are very imperfectly aware of the desirableness, 
and even the necessity, of doing this. As for the means of 
accomplishing the object — that is, providing channels for 
the complete expenditure of this force in the safest and 
most agreeable manner for the child, and the least incon- 
venient and troublesome for others, much must depend upon 
the tact, the ingenuity, and the discretion of the mother. 
It will, however, be a great point gained for her when she 
once fully comprehends that the tendency to incessant ac- 
tivity, and even to turbulence and noise, on the part of her 
child, only shows that he is all right in his vital machinery, 
and that this exuberance of energy is something to be 
pleased with and directed, not denounced and restrained. 



136 GENTLE MEASURES. 



CHAPTER XY. 

THE IMAGINATION IN CHILDREN. 

The reader may, perhaps, recollect that in the last chap- 
ter there was an intimation that a portion of the force 
which was produced, or rather liberated and brought into 
action, by the consumption of food in the vital system, ex- 
pended itself in the development of thoughts, emotions, and 
other forms of mental action, through the organization of 
the brain and of the nerves. 

Expenditure of Force through the Brain. 

The whole subject of the expenditure of material force 
in maintaining those forms of mental action which are car- 
ried on through the medium of bodily organs, it must be 
admitted, is involved in great obscurity ; for it is only a 
glimmering of light which science has yet been able to 
throw into this field. It is, however, becoming the settled 
opinion, among all well-informed persons, that the soul, dur- 
ing the time of its connection with a material system in 
this life, performs many of those functions which we class 
as mental, through the medium, or instrumentality, in some 
mysterious way, of material organs, just as we all know is 
the case with the sensations — that is, the impressions made 
through the organs of sense; and that the maintaining of 
these mental organs, so to speak, in action, involves a cer- 
tain expenditure of some form of physical force, the source 
of this force being in the food that is consumed in the nour- 
ishment of the body. 

There is certainly no apparent reason why there should 



, THE IMAGINATIOX IN CHILDREN. 197 

be any antecedent presumption against the supposition that 
the soul performs the act of remembering or of conceiving 
an imaginary scene through the instrumentality of a bodily 
oro-an, more than that it should receive a sensation of lis^ht 
or of sound through such a channel. The question of the 
independent existence and the immateriality of the think- 
ing and feeling principle, which takes cognizance of these 
thoughts and sensations, is not at all affected by any inqui- 
ries into the nature of the instrumentality by means of 
which, in a particular stage of its existence, it performs 
these functions. 

Phenomena explained by this Princi'ple. 
This truth, if it be indeed a truth, throws great light on 
what would be otherwise quite inexplicable in the playful 
activity of the mental faculties of children. The curious 
fantasies, imaginings, and make-believes — the pleasure of 
listening to marvellous and impossible tales, and of hearing 
odd and unpronounceable words or combination of words 
— the love of acting, and of disguises — of the impersona- 
tion of inanimate objects — of seeing things as they are not, 
and of creating and giving reality to what has no existence 
except in their own minds — are all the gambollings and 
frolics, so to speak, of the embryo faculties just becoming 
conscious of their existence, and affording, like the muscles 
of motion, so many different issues for the internal force 
derived from the food. Thus the action of the mind of a 
child, in holding an imaginary conversation with a doll, or 
in inventing or in relating an impossible fairy story, or in 
converting a switch on which he pretends to be riding into 
a prancing horse, is precisely analogous to that of the mus- 
cles of the lamb, or the calf, or any other young animal in 
its gambols — that is, it is the result of the force which the 
vital functions are continually developing within the sys' 



198 GENTLE MEASURES. 

tern, and which flows and must flow continually out through 
whatever channels are open to it ; and in thus flowing, sets 
all the various systems of machinery into play, each in its 
own appropriate manner. 

In any other view of the subject than this, many of the 
phenomena of childhood would be still more wonderful 
and inexplicable than they are. One would have supposed, 
for example, that the imagination — being, as is commonly 
thouQ:ht, one of the most exalted and refined of the mental 
faculties of man — would be one of the latest, in the order 
of time, to manifest itself in the development of the mind ; 
instead of which it is, in fact, one of the earliest. Children 
live, in a great measure, from the earliest age in an ideal 
world — their pains and their pleasures, their joys and their 
fears being, to a vast extent, the concomitants of phantasms 
and illusions having often the slightest bond of connection 
with the realities around them. The realities themselves, 
moreover, often have far greater influence over them by 
what they suggest than by what they are. 

Indeed, the younger the child is, within reasonable limits, 
the more susceptible he seems to be to the power of the 
imagination, and the more easily his mind and heart are 
reached and influenced through this avenue. At a very 
early period the realities of actual existence and the phan- 
tasms of the mind seem inseparably mingled, and it is only 
after much experience and a considerable development of 
his powers, that the line of distinction between them be- 
comes defined. The power of investing an elongated bag 
of bran with the attributes and qualities of a thinking be- 
ing, so as to make it an object of solicitude and affection, 
which would seem to imply a high exercise of one of the 
most refined and exalted of the human faculties, does not 
come, as we might have expected, at the end of a long pe- 
riod of progress and development, but springs into exist 



THE IMAGINATION IN CHILDREN. 199 

ence, as it were, at once, in the very earliest years. The 
progress and development are required to enable the child 
to perceive that the rude and shapeless doll is not a living 
and lovable thing. This mingling of the real and imagi- 
nary worlds shows itself to the close observer in a thou- 
sand curious ways. 

The true explanation of the phenomenon seems to be that 
the various embryo faculties are brought into action by the 
vital force at first in a very irregular, intermingled, and ca- 
pricious manner, just as the muscles are in the endless and 
objectless play of the limbs and members. They develop 
themselves and grow by this very action, and we ought not 
only to indulge, but to cherish the action in all its beautiful 
manifestations by every means in our power. These mental 
organs, so to speak — that is, the organs of the brain, through 
which, while its connection with the body continues, the mind 
performs its mental functions — grow and thrive, as the mus- 
cles do, by being reasonably kept in exercise. 

It is evident, from these facts, that the parent should be 
pleased with, and should encourage the exercise of these 
embryo powers in his children ; and both father and moth- 
er may be greatly aided in their efforts to devise means for 
reaching and influencing their hearts by means of them, 
and especially through the action of the imagination, which 
will be found, when properly employed, to be capable of 
exercising an almost magical power of imparting great at- 
tractiveness and giving great effect to lessons of instruction 
which, in their simple form, would be dull, tiresome, and in- 
effective. Precisely Avhat is meant by this will be shown 
more clearly by some examples. 

Methods exeinplified. 

One of the simplest and easiest modes by which a mother 
can avail herself of the vivid imagination of the child in 



300 GENTLE MEASURES. 

amusing and entertaining him, is by holding conversationa 
with representations of persons, or even of animals, in the 
pictures which she shows him. Thus, in the case, for ex- 
ample, of a picture which she is showing to her child sit- 
ting in her lap — the picture containing, we will suppose, a 
representation of a little girl with books under her arm — 
she may say, 

"My little girl, where are you going? — I am going" 
(speaking now in a somewhat altered voice, to represent 
the voice of the little girl) "to school.— Ah ! you are go- 
ing to school. You don't look quite old enough to go to 
school. Who sits next to you at school ? — George Williams. 
— George Williams ? Is he a good boy ? — Yes, he's a very 
good boy. — I am glad you have a good boy, and one that 
is kind to you, to sit by you. That must be very pleasant." 
And so on, as long as the child is interested in listening. 

Or, "What is your name, my little girl? — My name is 
Lucy. — That's a pretty name ! And where do you live ? — I 
live in that house under the trees. — Ah ! I see the house. 
And where is your room in that house? — My room is the 
one where you see the window open. — I see it. What have 
you got in your room ? — I have a bed, and a table by the 
window; and I keep my doll there. I have got a cradle 
for my doll, and a little trunk to keep her clothes in. And 
I have got — " The mother may go on in this way, and de- 
scribe a great number and variety of objects in the room, 
such as are calculated to interest and please the little list- 
ener. 

It is the pleasurable exercise of some dawning faculty 
or faculties acting through embryo organs of the brain, by 
which the mind can picture to itself, more or less vividly, 
unreal scenes, which is the source of the enjoyment in such 
cases as this. 

A child may be still more interested, perhaps, by imag 



THE IMAGINATION IN GHILBZEN. 201 

inary conversations of this kind with pictures of animals, 
and by varying the form of them in such a way as to call a 
new set of mental faculties into play ; as, for example, 

" Here is a picture of a squirrel. I'll ask him where he 
lives. * Bunny ! bunny ! stop a minute; I want to speak to 
you. I want you to tell me where you live. — I live in my 
hole.— Where is your hole? — It is under that big log that 
you see back in the woods.' Yes" (speaking now to the 
child), " I see the log. Do you see it? Touch it with your 
finger. Yes, that must be it. But I don't see any hole. 
* Bunny ' (assuming now the tone of speaking again to the 
squirrel), *I don't see your hole. — ISTo, I did not mean that 
any body should see it. I made it in a hidden place in the 
ground, so as to have it out of sight. — I wish I could see 
it, and I wish more that I could look down into it and see 
what is there. What is there i7i your hole, bunny ? — My 
nest is there, and my little bunnies. — How many little bun- 
nies have you got ?' " — And so on, to any extent that you 
desire. 

It is obvious that conversations of this kind may be made 
the means of conveying, indirectly, a great deal of instruc- 
tion to young children on a great variety of subjects; and 
lessons of duty may be inculcated thus in a very effective 
manner, and by a method which is at the same time easy 
and agreeable for the mother, and extremely attractive to 
the child. 

This may seem a very simple thing, and it is really very 
simple; but any mother who has never resorted to this 
method of amusing and instructing her child will be sur- 
prised to find what an easy and inexhaustible resource for 
her it may become. Children are always coming to ask 
for stories, and the mother often has no story at hand, and 
her mind is too much preoccupied to invent one. Here is 
a ready resort in every such emergency. 

12 



202 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Story fitted to a Picture. 

" Very well," replies the mother to sucli a request, " I'U 
tell you a story; but I must have a picture to my story. 
Find me a picture in some book." 

The child brings a picture, no matter what. There is no 
possible picture that will not suggest to a person possessed 
of ordinary ingenuity an endless number of talks to interest 
and amuse the child. To take an extreme case, suppose 
the picture is a rude pencil drawing of a post, and nothing 
besides. You can imagine a boy hidden behind the post, 
and you can call to him, and finally obtain an answer from 
him, and have a long talk with him about his play and who 
he is hiding from, and what other way he has of playing 
with his friend. Or you can talk with the post directly. 
Ask him Avhere he came from, who put him in the ground, 
and what he was put in the ground for, and what kind of 
a tree he was when he was a part of a tree growing in the 
Avoods ; and, following the subject out, the conversation may 
be the means of not only amusing the child for the mo- 
ment, but also of gratifying his curiosity, and imj^arting a 
great amount of useful information to him which will ma- 
terially aid in the development of his powers. 

Or you may ask the post whether he has any relatives, 
and he may reply that he has a great many cousins. He 
has some cousins that live in the city, and they are called 
lamp-posts, and their business is to hold lamps to light 
people along the streets; and he has some other cousins 
who stand in a long row and hold up the telegraph-wire to 
carry messages from one part of the world to another; and 
so on without end. If all this may done by means of a 
rude representation of a simple post, it may easily be seen 
that no picture which the child can 230ssibly bring can fail 
to serve as a subject for such conversations. 



THE IMAGINATION IN CHILDREN 203 

Some mothers may, perhaps, think it must require a great 
deal of ingenuity and skill to carry out these ideas effect- 
ively in practice, and that is true ; or rather, it is true that 
there is in it scope for the exercise of a great deal of inge- 
nuity and skill, and even of genius, for those who possess 
these qualities ; but the degree of ingenuity required for a 
commencement in this method is very small, and that nec- 
essary for complete success in it is very easily acquired. 

Personification of Inanimate Objects. 

It will at once occur to the mother that any inanimate 
object may be personified in this way and addressed as a 
living and intelligent being. Your child is sick, I will sup- 
pose, and is somewhat feverish and fretful. In adjusting 
his dress you prick him a little with a pin, and the pain 
and aimoyance acting on his morbid sensibilities bring out 
expressions of irritation and ill-humor. Now you may, if 
you please, tell him that he must not be so impatient, that 
you did not mean to hurt him, that he must not mind a lit- 
tle prick, and the like, and you will meet with the ordinary 
success that attends such admonitions. Or, in the spirit of 
the foregoing suggestions, you may say, 

" Did the pin prick you ? I'll catch the little rogue, and 
hear what he has to say for himself. Ah, here he is — I've 
caught him ! I'll hold him fast. Lie still in my lap, and 
we will hear what he has to say. 

" ' Look up here, my little prickler, and tell me what your 
name is. — My name is pin. — Ah, your name is pin, is it? 
How bright you are! How came you to be so bright? — 
Oh, they brightened me when they made me. — Indeed! 
And how did they make you ? — They made me in a ma- 
chine. — In a machine ? That's very curious ! How did 
they make you in the machine? Tell us all about it! — 
They made me out of wire. First the machine cut off a 



204 GENTLE MEASURES. 

piece of the wire long enough to make me, and then I was 
carried around to different parts of the machine to have 
different things done to me. I went first to one part to 
get straightened. Don't you see how straight I am? — 
Yes, you are very straight indeed. — Then I went to anoth- 
er part of the machine and had my head put on ; and then 
I went to another part and had my point sharpened ; and 
then I was poUshed, and covered all over with a beautiful 
silvering, to make me bright and white.' " 

And so on indefinitely. The mother may continue the 
talk as long as the child is interested, by letting the pin 
give an account of the various adventures that happened to 
it in the course of its life, and finally call it to account for 
pricking a poor little sick child. 

Any mother can judge whether such a mode of ti'eating 
the case, or the more usual one of gravely exhorting the 
child to patience and good-humor, when sick, is likely to be 
most effectual in soothing the nervous irritation of the lit- 
tle patient, and restoring its mind to a condition of calm- 
ness and repose. 

The mother who reads these suggestions in a cursory 
manner, and contents herself with saying that they are very 
good, but makes no resolute and persevering effort to ac- 
quire for herself the ability to avail herself of them, will 
have no idea of the immense practical value of them as a 
means of aiding her in her work, and in promoting the hap- 
piness of her children. But if she will make the attempt, 
she will most certainly find enough encouragement in her 
first effort to induce her to persevere. 

She must, moreover, not only originate, herself, modes of 
amusing the imagination of her children, but must fall in 
with and aid those which they originate. If your little 
daughter is playing with her doll, look up from your work 
and say a few words to the doll or the child in a grave and 



THE IMAGINATION IN CHILDREN. 207 

serious manner, assuming that the doll is a living and sen- 
tient being. If your boy is playing horses in the garden 
while you are there attending to your flowers, ask him with 
all gravity what he values his horse at, and whether he 
wishes to sell him. Ask him whether he ever bites, or 
breaks out of his pasture ; and give him some advice about 
not driving him too fast up hill, and not giving him oats 
when he is w^arm. He will at once enter into such a con- 
versation in the most serious manner, and the pleasure of 
his play will be greatly increased by your joining with him 
in maintaining the illusion. 

There is a still more important advantage than the tem- 
porary increase to your children's happiness by acting on 
this principle. By thus joining with them, even for a few 
moments, in their play, you establish a closer bond of sym- 
pathy between your own heart and theirs, and attach them 
to you more strongly than you can do by any other means. 
Indeed, in many cases the most important moral lessons 
can be conveyed in connection with these illusions of chil- 
dren, and in a way not only more agreeable but far more 
effective than by any other method. 

Influence ivithoiit Claim to Authority. 
Acting through the imagination of children — if the art 
of doing so is once understood — will prove at once an in- 
valuable and an inexhaustible resource for all those classes of 
persons who are placed in situations requiring them to ex- 
ercise an influence over children without having any proper 
authority over them; such, for example, as uncles and aunts, 
older brothers and sisters, and even visitors residing more 
or less permanently in a family, and desirous, from a wish 
to do good, of promoting the welfare and the improvement 
of the younger members of it. It often happens that such 
a visitor, without any actual right of authority, acquires a 



208 GENTLE MEASUBES. 

greater influence over the minds of the children than the 
parents themselves ; and many a mother, who, with all her 
threatenings and scoldings, and even punishments, can not 
make herself obeyed, is surprised at the absolute ascenden- 
cy which some inmate residing in the family acquires over 
them by means so silent, gentle, and unpretending, that they 
seem mysterious and almost magical. " What is the secret 
of it ?" asks the mother sometimes in such a case. " You 
never punish the children, and you never scold them, and 
yet they obey you a great deal more readily and certainly 
than they do me." 

There are a great many different means which may be 
employed in combination with each other for acquiring 
this kind of ascendency, and among them the use which 
may be made of the power of the imagination in the young 
is one of the most important, n 

The Intermediation of the Dolls again. 

A young teacher, for example, in returning from school 
some day, finds the children of the family in which she re- 
sides, who have been playing with their dolls in the yard, 
engaged in some angry dispute. The first impulse with 
many persons in such a case might be to sit down with the 
children upon the seat where they were playing, and re- 
monstrate with them, though in a very kind and gentle 
manner, on the wrongfulness and folly of such disputings, 
to show them that the thing in question is not worth dis- 
puting about, that angry feelings are uncomfortable and un- 
happy feelings, and that it is, consequently, not only a sin, 
but a folly to indulge in them. 

Now such a remonstrance, if given in a kind and gentle 
i^anner, will undoubtedly do good. The children will be 
somewhat less likely to become involved in such a dispute 
immediately after it than before, and in process of time, 



THE IMAGINATION IN CHILDREN. 209 

and through many repetitions of such counsels, the fault 
may be gradually cured. Still, at the time, it will make the 
children uncomfortable, by producing in their minds a cer- 
tain degree of irritation. They will be very apt to listen 
in silence, and with a morose and sullen air ; and if they do 
not call the admonition a scolding, on account of the kind 
and gentle tones in which it is delivered, they will be very 
apt to consider it much in that light. 

Suppose, however, that, instead of dealing with the case 
in this matter-of-fact and naked way, the teacher calls the 
imagination of the children to her aid, and administers her 
admonition and reproof indirectly, through the dolls. She 
takes the dolls in her hand, asks their names, and inquires 
which of the two girls is the mother of each. The dolls' 
names are Bella and Araminta, and the mothers' are Lucy 
and Mary. 

"But I might have asked Araminta herself," she adds; 
and, so saying, she holds the doll before her, and enters into 
a long imaginary conversation with her, more or less spirit- 
ed and original, according to the talent and ingenuity of 
the young lady, but, in any conceivable case, enough so to 
completely absorb the attention of the children and fully to 
occupy their minds. She asks each of them her name, and 
inquires of each which of the girls is her mother, and makes 
first one of them, and then the other, point to her mother 
in giving her answer. By this time the illusion is com- 
pletely established in the children's minds of regarding 
their dolls as living beings, responsible to mothers for their 
conduct and behavior; and the young lady can go on and 
give her admonitions and instructions in respect to the sin 
and folly of quarrelling to them — the children listening. 
And it will be found that by this management the impres- 
sion upon the minds of the children will be far greater and 
more effective than if the counsels were addressed directly 



210 GENTLE MEASURES. 

to them; while, at the same time, though they may even 
take the form of very severe reproof, they will produce no 
sullenness or vexation in the minds of those for whom 
they are really intended. Indeed, the very reason why the 
admonition thus given will be so much more effective is 
the fact that it does not tend in any degree to awaken re- 
sentment and vexation, but associates the lesson which the 
teacher wishes to convey with amusement and pleasure. 

"You are very pretty" — she says, we will suppose, ad- 
dressing the dolls — " and you look very amiable. I sup- 
pose you are very amiable." 

Then, turning to the children, she asks, in a confidential 
undertone, " Do they ever get into disputes and quarrels ?" 

" So7neti?nes,'''' says one of the children, entering at once 
into the idea of the teacher. 

"Ah !" the teacher exclaims, turning again to the dolls. 
"I hear that you dispute and quarrel sometimes, and I am 
very sorry for it. That is very foolish. It is only silly lit- 
tle children that we expect will dispute and quarrel. I 
should not have supposed it possible in the case of such 
young ladies as you. It is a great deal better to be yield- 
ing and kind. If one of you says something that the other 
thinks is not true, let it pass without contradiction ; it is 
foolish to dispute about it. And so if one has any thing 
that the other wants, it is generally much better to wait 
for it than to quarrel. It is hateful to quarrel. Besides, it 
spoils your beauty. When children are quarrelling they 
look like little furies." 

The teacher may go on in this way, and give a long mor- 
al lecture to the dolls in a tone of mock gravity, and the 
children will listen to it with the most profound attention ; 
and it will have a far greater influence upon them than the 
same admonitions addressed directly to them. 

So effectually, in fact, will this element of play in th« 



THE IMAGINATION IN CHILDREN. 2U 

transaction open their hearts to the reception of good coun- 
sel, that even direct admonitions to tliem will be admitted 
with it, if the same guise is maintained ; for the teacher 
may add, in conclusion, addressing now the children them- 
selves with the same mock solemnity : 

"That- is a very bad fault of your children — very bad, in- 
deed. And it is one that you will find very hard to cor- 
rect. You must give them a great deal of good counsel on 
the subject, and, above all, you must be careful to set them 
a good example yourselves. Children always imitate what 
they see in their mothers, Avhether it is good or bad. If 
you are always amiable and kind to one another, they will 
be so too." 

The thoughtful mother, in following out the suggestions 
here given, w^ill see at once how the interest which the chil- 
dren take in their dolls, and the sense of reality which they 
feel in respect to all their dealings with them, opens before 
her a boundless field in respect to modes of reaching and 
influencing their minds and hearts. 

The Ball itself made to teach Carefulness. 

There is literally no end to the modes by which persons 
having the charge of young children can avail themselves 
of their vivid imaginative powers in inculcating moral les- 
sons or influencing their conduct. A boy, we will suppose, 
has a new ball. Just as he is going out to play with it his 
father takes it from him to examine it, and, after turning it 
round and looking at it attentively on every side, holds it 
up to his ear. The boy asks what his father is doing. " I 
am hstening to hear what he says." "And what does he 
say, father ?" " He says that you w^on't have him to play 
with long." "Why not?" "I will ask him, why not?" 
(holding the ball again to his ear). " What does he say, 
father?" "He says he is going to run away from you and 



212 UENTLE MEASUBES. 

hide. He says you will go to play near some building, and 
he means, when you throw him or knock him, to fly against 
the windows and break the glass, and then people will take 
your ball away from you." " But I won't play near any 
windows." " He says, at any rate you will play near some 
building, and when you knock him he means to fly up to 
the roof and get behind a chimney, or roll down into the 
gutter where you can't get him." " But, father, I am not 
going to play near any building at all." " Then you will 
play in some place where there are holes in the ground, or 
thickets of bushes near, where he can hide." " ISTo, father, 
I mean to look well over the ground, and not play in any 
place where there is any danger at all." " Well, we shall 
see ; but the little rogue is determined to hide somewhere." 
The boy takes his ball and goes out to play with it, far 
more effectually cautioned than he could have been by any 
direct admonition. 

The Teacher and the Tough Logs. 

A teacher who was engaged in a district school in the 
country, where the arrangement was for the older boys to 
saw and split the wood for the fire, on coming one day, at 
the recess, to see how the work was going on, found that 
the boys had laid one rather hard-looking log aside. They 
could not split that log, they said. 

" Yes," said the teacher, looking at the log, " I don't won- 
der. I know that log. I saw him before. His name is Old 
Gnarly. He says he has no idea of coming open for a par- 
cel of boys, even if they have got beetle and wedges. It 
takes a man, he says, to split him.'''' 

The boys stood looking at the log with a very grave ex- 
pression of countenance as they heard these words. 

" Is that what he says ?" asked one of them. " Let's try 
him again, Joe." 



THE IMAGINATION IN CHILDREN 2ia 

"It will do no good," said the teacher, "for he won't 
come open, if he can possibly help it. And there! s anoth* 
er fellow (pointing). His name is Slivertwist. If you get 
a crack in him, you will find him full of twisted splinters 
that he holds himself together with. The only way is to 
cut them through with a sharp axe. But he holds on so 
tight with them that I don't believe you can get him open. 
He says he never gives up to boys." 

So saying, the teacher went away. It is scarcely neces- 
sary to say to any one who knows boys that the teacher 
was called out not long afterwards to see that Old Gnarly 
and Old Slivertwist were both split up fine — the boys 
standing around the heaps of well-prepared fire-wood which 
they had afforded, and regarding them with an air of exul- 
tation and triumph. 

Muscles rei7ivig orated through the Action of the 3Iind. 

An older sister has been taking a walk, with little John- 
ny, four years old, as her companion. On their return, 
when within half a mile of home, Johnny, tired of gathering 
flowers and chasing butterflies, comes to his sister, with a 
fatigued and languid air, and says he can not walk any far- 
ther, and wants to be carried. 

"I can't carry you very well," she says, "but I will teli 
you what we will do ; we will stop at the first tavern we 
come to and rest. Do you see that large flat stone out 
there at the turn of the road? That is the tavern, and you 
shall be my courier. A courier is a man that goes forward 
as fast as he can on his horse, and tells the tavern-keeper 
that the traveller is coming, and orders supper. So you 
may gallop on as fast as you can go, and, Avhen you get to 
the tavern, tell the tavern-keeper that the princess is com- 
ing — I am the princess — and that he must get ready an ex- 
cellent supper." 



214 GENTLE MEASURES. 

The boy will gallop on and wait at the stone. When his 
sister arrives she may sit and rest with him a moment, en- 
tertaining him by imagining conversations with the inn- 
keeper, and then resume their walk. 

" Now," she may say, " I must send my courier to the 
post-office with a letter. Do you see that fence away for- 
ward ? That fence is the post-office. We wdll play that 
one of the cracks between the boards is the letter-box. 
Take this letter (handing him any little scrap of paper 
which she has taken from her pocket and folded to repre- 
sent a letter) and put it in the letter-box, and speak to the 
postmaster through the crack, and tell him to send the let- 
ter as soon as he can." 

Under such management as this, unless the child's ex- 
haustion is very great, his sense of it will disaj^pear, and he 
will accomplish the walk not only without any more com- 
plaining, but with a great feeling of pleasure. The nature 
of the action in such a case seems to be that the vital force, 
when, in its direct and ordinary passage to the muscles 
through the nerves, it has exhausted the resources of that 
mode of transmission, receives in some mysterious way a 
reinforcement to its strength in passing round, by a new 
channel, through the organs of intelligence and imagina- 
tion. 

These trivial instances are only given as examples to 
show how infinitely varied are the applications which may 
be made of this principle of appealing to the imagination 
of children, and what a variety of effects may be produced 
through its instrumentality by a parent or teacher who 
once takes pains to make himself possessed of it. But each 
one must make himself possessed of it by his own practice 
and experience. No general instructions can do any thing 
more than to offer the suggestion, and to show how a be- 
ginning is to bo made. 



TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD, 215 



CHAPTER XVI. 

TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. 

The duty of telling the truth seems to us, until we have 
devoted special consideration to the subject, the most sim- 
ple thing in the world, both to understand and to perform ; 
and when w^e find young children disregarding it we are 
surprised and shocked, and often imagine that it indicates 
something peculiar and abnormal in the moral sense of the 
offender. A little reflection, however, will show us how 
very different the state of the case really is. What do we 
mean by the obligation resting upon us to tell the truth? 
It is simply, in general terms, that it is our duty to make 
our statements correspond with the realities which they 
purport to express. This is, no doubt, our duty, as a gen- 
eral rule, but there are so many exceptions to this rule, and 
the principles on which the admissibility of the exceptions 
depend are so complicated and so abstruse, that it is won- 
derful that children learn to make the necessary distinc- 
tions as soon as they do. 

JVo Natural Guidance to the Duty of telling the Truth. 

The child, Avhen he first acquires the art of using and 
understanding language, is filled wdth wonder and pleas- 
ure to find that he can represent external objects that he 
observes, and also ideas passing through his mind, by 
means of sounds formed by his organs of speech. Such 
sounds, he finds, have both these powers — that is, they can 
represent realities or fancies. Thus, when he utters the 
Bounds I see a bird, they may denote either a mere concep- 



216 GENTLE MEASURES. 

tion in his mind, or an outward actuality. How is he pos- 
sibly to know, by any instinct, or intuition, or moral sense, 
when it is right for him to use them as representations of 
a mere idea, and when it is wrong for him to use them, un- 
less they correspond with some actual reality ? 

The fact that vivid images or conceptions may be awaken- 
ed in his mind by the mere hearing of certain sounds made 
by himself or another is something strange and wonderful 
to him ; and though he comes to his consciousness of this 
susceptibility by degrees, it is still, while he is acquiring it, 
and extending the scope and range of it, a source of contin- 
ual pleasure to him. The necessity of any correspondence 
of these words, and of the images which they excite, with 
actual realities, is a necessity which arises from the rela- 
tions of man to man in the social state, and he has no 
means whatever of knowing any thing about it except by 
instruction. 

There is not only no ground for expecting that children 
should perceive any such necessity either by any kind of 
instinct, or intuition, or embryo moral sense, or by any rea- 
soning process of which his incipient powers are capable ; 
but even if he should by either of these means be inclined 
to entertain such an idea, his mind would soon be utterly 
confused in regard to it by what he observes constantly 
taking place around him in respect to the use of language 
by others whose conduct, much more than their precepts, 
he is accustomed to follow as his guide. 

A very 7iice Distinction. 

A mother, for example, takes her little son, four or five 
years old, into her lap to amuse him with a story. She be- 
gins : 

"When I was a little boy I lived by myself. All the 
bread and cheese I got I laid upon the shelf," and so on to 



TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. 217 

the end. The mother's object is accomplished. The boy 
is amused. He is greatly interested and pleased by the 
wonderful phenomenon taking place within him of curious 
images awakened in his mind by means of sounds entering 
his ear — images of a little boy living alone, of his reaching 
up to put bread and cheese upon a shelf, and finally of his 
attempting to wheel a little wife home — the story ending 
with the breaking and downfall of the wheelbarrow, wife 
and all. He does not reflect philosophically upon the sub- 
ject, but the principal element of the pleasure afforded him 
is the wonderful phenomenon of the formation of such viv- 
id and strange images in his mind by means of the mere 
sound of his mother's voice. 

He knows at once, if any half-formed reflections arise in 
his mind at all, that what his mother has told him is not 
true — that is, that the words and images which they awaken 
in his mind had no actual realities corresponding with them. 
He knows, in the first place, that his mother never was a boy, 
and does not suppose that she ever lived by herself, and laid 
up her bread and cheese upon a shelf. The whole story, he 
understands, if he exercises any thought about it whatever 
— wheelbarrow catastrophe and all — consists only of words 
which his mother speaks to him to give him pleasure. 

By-and-by his mother gives him a piece of cake, and he 
goes out into the garden to play. His sister is there and 
asks him to give her a piece of his cake. He hesitates. He 
thinks of the request long enough to form a distinct image 
in his mind of giving her half of it, but finally concludes 
not to do so, and eats it all himself. 

When at length he comes in, his mother accidentally asks 
him some question about the cake, and he says he gave half 
of it to his sister. His mother seems much pleased. He 
knew that she would be pleased. He said it, in fact, on 
purpose to please her. The words represented no actual 

K 



218 GENTLE MEASURES. 

reality, but only a thought passing through his mind, and 
he spoke, in a certain sense, for the purpose of giving his 
mother pleasure. The case corresponds in all these partic- 
ulars with that of his mother's statement in respect to her 
being once a little boy and living by herself. Those words 
w^ere spoken by her to give him pleasure, and he said what 
he did to give her pleasure. To give her pleasure ! the 
reader will perhaps say, with some surprise, thinking that 
to assign such a motive as that is not, by any means, put- 
ting a fair and proper construction upon the boy's act. 
His design was, it will be said, to shield himself from cen- 
sure, or to procure undeserved praise. And it is, no doubt, 
true that, on a nice analysis of the motives of the act, such 
as w^e, in our maturity, can easily make, we shall find that 
design obscurely mingled with them. But the child does 
not analyze. He can not. He does not look forward to 
ultimate ends, or look for the hidden springs that lie con- 
cealed among the complicated combinations of impulses 
which animate him. In the case that we are supposing, all 
that we can reasonably believe to be present to his mind is 
a kind of instinctive feeling that for him ^o say that he ate 
the cake all himself would bring a frown, or at least a look 
of pain and distress, to his mother's face, and perhaps words 
of displeasure for him; while, if he says that he gave half to 
his sister, she will look pleased and happy. This is as far 
as he sees. And he may be of such an age, and his mental 
organs may be in so embryonic a condition, that it is as far 
as he ought to be expected to look ; so that, as the case pre- 
sents itself to his mind in respect to the impulse which at 
the moment prompts him to act, he said what he did from 
a desire to give his mother pleasure, and not pain. As to 
the secret motive, which might have been his ultimate end, 
ihat lay too deeply concealed for him to be conscious of it. 
And we ourselves too often act from the influence of hid 



TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. 219 

den impulses of selfishness, the existence of which we are 
wholly unconscious of, to judge him too harshly for his 
blindness. 

At length, by-and-by, when his sister comes in, and the 
untruth is discovered, the boy is astonished and bewildered 
by being called to account in a very solemn manner by his 
mother on account of the awful wickedness of having told 
a lie ! 

Sow the Child sees it. 

Now I am very ready to admit that, notwithstanding the 
apparent resemblance between these two cases, this resem- 
blance is only apparent and superficial ; but the question is, 
whether it is not sufficient to cause such a child to con- 
found them, and to be excusable, until he has been enlight- 
ened by appropriate instruction, for not clearly distinguish- 
ing the cases where words must be held strictly to conform 
to actual realities, from those where it is perfectly right and 
proper that they should only represent images or concep- 
tions of the mind. 

A father, playing with his children, says, " I^ow I am a 
bear, and am going to growl." So he growls. Then he 
says, " Now I am a dog, and am going to bark." He is not 
a bear, and he is not a dog, and the children know it. His 
words, therefore, even to the apprehension of the children, 
express an untruth, in the sense that they do not corre- 
spond with any actual reality. It is not a wrongful untruth. 
The children understand perfectly well that in such a case 
as this it is not in any sense wrong to say what is not true. 
But how are they to know what kind of untruths are right, 
and what kind are wrong, until they are taught what the 
distinction is and upon what it depends. 

Unfortunately many parents confuse the ideas, or rather 
the moral sense of their children, in a much more vital 



220 GENTLE MEASURES. 

manner by untruths of a different kind from this — as, for 
example, when a mother, in the presence of her children, 
expresses a feeling of vexation and annoyance at seeing 
a certain visitor coming to make a call, and then, when the 
visitor enters the room, receives her with pretended pleas- 
ure, and says, out of politeness, that she is very glad to see 
her. Sometimes a father will join with his children, when 
peculiar circumstances seem, as he thinks, to require it, in 
concealing something from their mother, or deceiving her 
in regard to it by misrepresentations or positive untruths. 
Sometimes even the mother will do this in reference to the 
father. Of course such management as this must necessa- 
rily have the effect of bringing up the children to the idea 
that deceiving by untruths is a justifiable resort in certain 
cases — a doctrine which, though entertained by many well- 
meaning persons, strikes a fatal blow at all confidence in 
the veracity of men ; for whenever we know of any persons 
that they entertain this idea, it is never afterw^ards safe to 
trust in what they say, since we never can know that the 
case in hand is not, for some reason unknown to us, one of 
those which justify a resort to falsehood. 

But to return to the case of the children that are under 
the training of parents who will not themselves, under any 
circumstances, falsify their word — that is, will never utter 
words that do not represent actual reality in any of the 
wrongful ways. Such children can not be expected to 
know of themselves, or to learn without instruction, what 
the wrongful ways are, and they never do learn until they 
have made many failures. Many, it is true, learn when 
they are very young. Many evince a remarkable tender- 
ness of conscience in respect to this as well as to all their 
other duties, so fast as they are taught them. And some 
become so faithful and scrupulous in respect to truth, at so 
early an age, that their parents quite forget the progressive 



TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. 221 

steps by which they advanced at the beginning. We find 
many a mother who will say of her boy that he never told 
an untruth, but we do not find any man who will say of 
himself, that when he was a boy he never told one. 

Imaginings and Rememberings easily mistaken for eaxih 

other. 
But besides the complicated character of the general sub- 
ject, as it presents itself to the minds of children — that is, 
the intricacy to them of the question when there must be a 
strict correspondence between the words spoken and an 
actual reality, and when they may rightly represent mere 
images or fancies of the mind — there is another great diffi- 
culty in their way, one that is very little considered and 
often, indeed, not at all understood by parents— and that is, 
that in the earliest years the distinction between realities 
and mere fancies of the mind is very indistinctly drawn. 
Even in our minds the two things are often confounded. 
We often have to pause and think in order to decide 
whether a mental perception of which we are conscious is 
a remembrance of a reality, or a revival of some image 
formed at some previous time, perhaps remote, by a vivid 
description which we have read or heard, or even by our 
own fancy. "Is that really so, or did I dream it?" How 
often is such a question heard. And persons have been 
known to certify honestly, in courts of justice, to facts 
which they think they personally witnessed, but which 
were really pictured in their minds in other ways. The 
picture was so distinct and vivid that they lost, in time, the 
power of distinguishing it from other and, perhaps, similar 
pictures which had been made by their witnessing the cor- 
responding realities. 

Indeed, instead of being surprised that these different 
origins of present mental images are sometimes confound- 



233 GENTLE MEASURES. 

ed, it is actually wonderful that they can generally be so 
clearly distinguished ; and we can not explain, even to our- 
selves, what the difference is by which we do distinguish 
them. 

For example, we can call up to our minds the picture 
of a house burning and a fireman going up by a ladder to 
rescue some person appearing at the window. IsTow the 
image, in such a case, may have had several different modes 
of origin. 1. We may have actually witnessed such a scene 
the evening before. 2. Some one may have given us a viv- 
id description of it. 3. We may have fancied it in writing 
a tale, and 4. We may have dreamed it. Here are four 
different prototypes of a picture which is now renewed, and 
there is something in the present copy which enables us, in 
most cases, to determine at once what the real prototype 
was. That is, there is something in the picture which now 
arises in our mind as a renewal or repetition of the picture 
made the day before, which makes us immediately cogni- 
zant of the cause of the original picture — that is, whether 
it came from a reality that we witnessed, or from a verbal 
or written description by another person, or whether it was 
a fanciful creation of our own mind while awake, or a 
dream. And it is extremely difficult for us to discover pre- 
cisely what it is, in the present mental picture, which gives 
us this information in respect to the origin of its prototype. 
It is very easy to say, " Oh, we rememherP But remember 
is only a word. We can only mean by it, in such a case as 
this, that there is some latent difference between the several 
images made upon our minds to-day of things seen, heard 
of, fancied, or dreamed yesterday, by which we distinguish 
each from all the others. But the most acute metaphysi- 
cians — men who are accustomed to the closest scrutiny of 
the movements and the mode of action of their minds — 
find it very difficult to discover what this difference is. 



TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. 233 

The Result in the Case of Children. 

Now, in the case of young children, the faculties of per. 
caption and consciousness and the power of recognizing the 
distinguishing characteristics of the different perceptions 
nnd sensations of their minds are all immature, and distinc- 
tions which even to mature minds are not so clear but that 
they are often confounded, for them form a bewildering 
maze. Their minds are occupied with a mingled and 
blended though beautiful combination of sensations, con- 
ceptions, fancies, and remembrances, which they do not at- 
tempt to sej^arate from each other, and their vocal organs 
are animated by a constant impulse to exercise themselves 
with any utterances which the incessant and playful gam- 
boUings of their faculties frame. In other words, the vital 
force liberated by the digestion of the food seeks an issue 
now in this way and now in that, through every variety of 
mental and bodily action. Of course, to arrange and sys- 
tematize these actions, to establish the true relations be- 
tween all these various faculties and powers, and to regu- 
late the obligations and duties by which the exercise of 
them should be limited and controlled, is a work of time, 
and is to be effected, not by the operation of any instinct 
or early intuition, but by a course of development — effected 
mainly by the progress of growth and experience, though it 
is to be aided and guided by assiduous but gentle training 
and instruction. 

If these views are correct, we can safely draw from them 
the following conclusions. 

Practical Conclusions. 

1. We must not expect from children that they will from 
the beginning understand and feel the obligation to speak 
the truth, any more than we look for a recognition, on thei^ 



334 GENTLE MEASURES. 

part, of the various other principles of duty which arise 
from the relations of man to man in the social state. We 
do not expect that two babies creeping upon the floor to- 
wards the same jolaything should each feel instinctively 
impelled to grant the other the use of it half of the time. 
Children must be taught to tell the truth, just as they must 
be taught the principles of justice and equal rights. They 
generally get taught by experience — that is, by the rough 
treatment and hard knocks which they bring upon them- 
selves by their violation of these principles. But the faith- 
ful parent can aid them in acquiring the necessary knowl- 
edge in a far easier and more agreeable manner by appro- 
priate instruction. 

2. The mother must r.ot be distressed or too much trou- 
bled when she finds that her children, while very young^ 
are prone to fall into deviations from the truth, but only to 
be made to feel more impressed with the necessity of re- 
newing her own efforts to teach them the duty, and to train 
them to the performance of it. 

3. She must not be too stern or severe in punishing the 
deviations from truth in very young children, or in express- 
ing the displeasure which they awaken in her mind. It is 
instruction, not expressions of anger or vindictive punish- 
ment, that is required in most cases. Explain to them 
the evils that would result if we could not believe what 
people say, and tell them stories of truth-loving children 
on the one hand, and of false and deceitful children on the 
other. And, above all, notice, with indications of approval 
and pleasure, when tlie child speaks the truth under circum- 
stances w^hich might have tempted him to deviate from it. 
One instance of this kind, in which you show that you ob- 
serve and are pleased by his truthfulness, will do more to 
awaken in his heart a genuine love for the truth than ten re- 
provals, or even punishments, incurred by the violation of it. 



TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD .'325 

And in the same spirit we must make use of the religious 
considerations which are appropriate to this subject — that 
is, we must encourage the child with the approval of his 
heavenly Father, when he resists the temptation to deviate 
from the truth, instead of frightening him, when he falls, 
by terrible denunciations of the anger of God against liars ; 
denunciations which, however well-deserved in the cases to 
which they are intended to apply, are not designed for chil- 
dren in whose minds the necessary discriminations, as point- 
ed out in this chapter, are yet scarcely formed. 

Danger of confounding Deceitfulness and Falsehood. 

4. Do not confound the criminality of deceitfulness by 
acts with falsehood by words, by telling the child, when he 
resorts to any artifice or deception in order to gain his 
ends, that it is as bad to deceive as to lie. It is not as 
bad, by any means. There is a marked line of distinction 
to be drawn between falsifying one's word and all other 
forms of deception, for there is such a sacredness in the 
spoken word, that the violation of it is in general far more 
reprehensible than the attempt to accomplish the same 
end by mere action. If a man has lost a leg, it may be 
perfectly right for him to wear a wooden one which is so 
perfectly made as to deceive people — and even to wear it, 
too, with the intent to deceive people by leading them to 
suppose that both his legs are genuine — while it would be 
wrong for him to assert in words that this limb was not an 
artificial one. It is right to put a chalk Qgg in a hen's nest 
to deceive the hen, when, if the hen could understand lan- 
guage, and if we were to suppose hens " to have any rights 
that we are bound to respect," it would be wrong to tell 
her that it was a real egg. It would be right for a person, 
when his house was entered by a robber at night, to point 
an empty gun at the robber to frighten him away by lead- 

K2 



236 GENTLE MEASURES. 

ing him to think that the gun was loaded ; but it would be 
wrong, as I think — though I am aware that many persons 
would think differently — for him to say in words that the 
gun was loaded, and that he would fire unless the robber 
went away. These cases show that there is a great differ- 
ence between deceiving by false appearances, which is 
sometimes right, and doing it by false statements, which, as 
I think, is always wrong. There is a special and inviolable 
sacredness, which every lover of the truth should attach to 
his spoken word. 

5. We must not allow the leniency with which, according 
to the views here presented, we are to regard the violations 
of truth by young persons, while their mental faculties and 
their powers of discrimination are yet imperfectly developed, 
to lead us to lower the standard of right in their minds, so 
as to allow them to imbibe the idea that we think that 
falsehood is, after all, no great sin, and still less, to suppose 
that we consider it sometimes, in extreme cases, allowable. 
We may, indeed, say, " The truth is not to be spoken at all 
times," but to make the aphorism complete we must add, 
that falsehood is to be spoken never. Thei'e is no other 
possible ground for absolute confidence in the word of any 
man except the conviction that his principle is, that it is 
never ^ under any circumstances, or to accomplish any pur- 
pose lohatever, right for him to falsify it. 

A different opinion, I am aware, prevails very extensively 
among mankind, and especially among the continental na- 
tions of Europe, where it seems to be very generally be- 
lieved that in those cases in which falsehood will on the 
whole be conducive of greater good than the truth it is al- 
lowable to employ it. But it is easy to see that, so far as 
we know that those around us hold to this philosophy, all 
reasonable ground for confidence in their statements is 
taken away; for we never can know, in respect to any 



TRTJTH AND FALSEHOOD. 337 

Statement which they make, that the case is not one of 
those in which, for reasons not manifest to us, they think it 
is expedient — that is, conducive in some way to good — to 
state what is not true. 

While, therefore, we must allow children a reasonable 
time to bring their minds to a full sense of the obligation 
of making their words always conform to what is true, in- 
stead of shaping them so as best to attain their purposes 
for the time being — which is the course to which their ear- 
liest natural instincts prompt them — and must deal gently 
and leniently with their incipient failures, we must do all 
in our power to bring them forward as fast as possible to 
the adoption of the very highest standard as their rule of 
duty in this respect ; inculcating it upon them, by example 
as well as by precept, that we can not innocently, under any 
circumstances, to escape any evil, or to gain any end, falsify 
our word. For there is no evil so great, and no end to be 
attained so valuable, as to justify the adoption of a princi- 
ciple which destroys all foundation for confidence between 
man and man. 



228 - GENTLE MEASURES. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 

It is a very unreasonable thing for parents to expect 
young children to be reasonable. Being reasonable in one's 
conduct or wishes implies the taking into account of those 
bearing^s and relations of an act which are more remote and 
less obvious, in contradistinction from being governed ex- 
clusively by those which are immediate and near. Now, 
it is not reasonable to expect children to be influenced by 
these remote considerations, simply because in them the 
faculties by which they are brought forward into the mind 
and invested with the attributes of reality are not yet de- 
veloped. These faculties are all in a nascent or formative 
state, and it is as idle to expect them, while thus imma- 
ture, to fulfill their functions for any practical purpose, as 
it would be to expect a baby to expend the strength of its 
little arms in performing any useful labor. 

Progress of Mental Development. 
The mother sometimes, when she looks upon her infant 
lying in her arms, and observes the intentness with which 
he seems to gaze upon objects in the room — upon the 
bright light of the window or of the lamp, or upon the pic- 
tures on the wall — wonders what he is thinking of. The 
truth probably is that he is not thinking at all; he is sim- 
ply seeing — that is to say, the light from external objects 
is entering his eyes and producing images upon his senso- 
rium, and that is all. He sees only. There migh$ have 
been a similar image of the light in his mind the day be- 



JUDGMENT AND BEASONINO. 239 

fore, but the reproduction of the former image which con- 
stitutes memory does not probably take place at all in his 
case if he is very young, so that there is not present to his 
mind, in connection with the present image, any reproduc- 
tion of the former one. Still less does he make any mental 
comparison between the two. The mother, as she sees the 
light of to-day, may remember the one of yesterday, and 
mentally compare the two ; may have many thoughts awak- 
ened in her mind by the sensation and the recollection — 
such as, this is from a new kind of oil, and gives a brighter 
light than the other ; that she will use this kind of oil in all 
her lamps, and will recommend it to her friends, and so on 
indefinitely. But the child has none of these thoughts and 
can have none ; for neither have the faculties been devel- 
oped within him by which they are conceived, nor has he 
had the experience of the previous sensations to form the 
materials for framing them. He is conscious of the pres- 
ent sensations, and that is all. 

As he advances, however, in his experience of sensations, 
and as his mental powers gradually begin to be unfolded, 
what may be called thoughts arise, consisting at first, proba- 
bly, of recollections of past sensations entering into his con- 
sciousness in connection with the present ones. These com- 
binations, and the mental acts of various kinds which are 
excited by them, multiply as he advances towards maturi- 
ty; but the images produced by present reahties are infi- 
nitely more vivid and have a very much greater power over 
him than those which memory brings up from the past, or 
that his fancy can anticipate in the future. 

This state of things, though there is, of course, a gradual 
advancement in the relative influence of what the mind can 
conceive, as compared with that which the senses make 
real, continues substantially the same through all the period 
of childhood and youth. 



230 GENTLE MEASURES. 

In other words, the organs of sense and of those mental 
faculties which are directly occupied with the sensations, 
are the earliest to be developed, as we might naturally sup- 
pose would be the case ; and, by consequence, the sensible 
properties of objects and the direct and immediate effects 
of any action, are those which have a controlling influence 
over the volitions of the mind during all the earlier periods 
of its development. The reaso?i, on the other hand, which, 
as applied to the practical affairs of life, has for its func- 
tion the bringing in of the more remote bearings and rela- 
tions of a fact, or the indirect and less obvious results of 
an action, is very slowly developed. It is precisely on this 
account that the period of immaturity in the human species 
is so long protracted in comparison with that of the inferior 
animals. The lives of these animals are regulated by the 
cognizance simply of the sensible properties of objects, and 
by the immediate results of their acts, and they accordingly 
become mature as soon as their senses and their bodily or- 
gans are brought completely into action. But man, who is 
to be governed by his reason — that is, by much more far- 
reaching and comprehensive views of what concerns him — 
requires a much longer period to fit him for independent 
action, since he must wait for the development of those 
higher faculties which are necessary for the attainment of 
these extended views; and during this period he must de- 
pend upon the reason of his parents instead of being gov- 
erned by his own. 

Practical Effect of these Truths. 

The true course, then, for parents to pursue is not to ex- 
pect too much from the ability of their children to see what 
is right and proper for them, but to decide all important 
questions themselves, using their own experience and their 
own power of foresight as their guide. They are, indeed. 



JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 231 

to cultivate and train the reasoning and reflective powers 
of their children, but are not to expect them in early life to 
be sufficiently developed and strengthened to bear any 
heavy strain, or to justify the placing of any serious reli- 
ance upon them. They must, in a word, treat the reason 
and the judgment of their children as the farmer treats the 
strength of his colt, which he exercises and, to a certain ex- 
tent, employs, but never puts upon it any serious burden. 

It results from this view of the case that it is not wise 
for a parent to resort to arguing or reasoning with a child, 
as a substitute for authority, or even as an aid to make up 
for a deficiency of authority, in regard to what it is neces- 
sary that the child should do. No doubt it is a good plan 
sometimes to let the child decide for himself, but when you 
pretend to allow him to decide let him do it really. When 
you go out with him to take a walk, if it is so nearly imma- 
terial which way you go that you are willing that he should 
determine the question, then lay the case before him, giv- 
ing him the advantages and disadvantages of the different 
ways, and let him decide ; and then act according to his 
decision. But if you have determined in your own mind 
which way to go, simply announce your determination ; and 
if you give reasons at all, do not give them in such a way 
as to convey the idea to his mind that his obligation to 
submit is to rest partly on his seeing the force of them. 
For every parent will find that this principle is a sound 
one and one of fundamental importance in the successful 
management of children — namely, that it is much easier for 
a child to do what he does not like to do as an act of sim- 
ple submission to superior authority, than for him to bring 
himself to an accordance with the decision by hearing and 
considering the reasons. In other words, it is much easier 
for him to obey your decision than to bring himself to the 
same decision against his own will. 



333 GENTLE MEASURES. 

In serious Cases no Reliance to he placed on the Reason 

of the Child. 

In all those cases, therefore, in which the parent can not 
safely allow the children really to decide, such as the ques- 
tion of going to school, going to church, taking medicine, 
remaining in-doors on account of indisposition or of the 
weather, making visits, choice of playmates and compan- 
ions, and a great many others which it would not be safe 
actually to allow them to decide, it is true kindness to 
them to spare their minds the painful perplexity of a con- 
flict. Decide for them. Do not say, " Oh, I would not do 
this or that " — whatever it may be — " because " — and then 
go on to assign reasons thought of perhaps at the moment 
to meet the emergency, and indeed generally false ; but, 
"Yes, I don't wonder that you w^ould like to do it. I 
should like it if I were you. But it can not be done." 
"When there is medicine to be taken, do not put the child 
in misery for half an hour while you resort to all sorts of 
arguments, and perhaps artifices, to bring him to a willing- 
ness to take it ; but simply present it to him, saying, " It is 
something very disagreeable, I know, but it must be taken ;" 
and if it is refused, allow of no delay, but at once, though 
without any appearance of displeasure, and in the gentlest 
manner possible, force it down. Then, after the excite- 
ment of the affair has passed away, and you have your lit- 
tle patient in your lap, and he is in good-humor — this is 
all, of course, on the supposition that he is not very sick — • 
say to him, " You would not take your medicine a little 
while ago, and we had to force it down : I hope it did not 
hurt you much." 

The child will probably make some fretful answer. 

"It is not surprising that you did not like to take it. 
All children, while they are too young to be reasonable, and 



JUBOJ^IENT AND REASONING. 235 

all animals, such as horses and cows, Avhen they are sick, 
are very unwilling to take their medicine, and we often 
have to force it down. You will, perhaps, refuse to take 
yours a good many times yet before you are old enough to 
see that it is a great deal easier to take it willingly than it 
is to have it forced down." 

And then go on and tell him some amusing story of the 
difficulty some people had in forcing medicine down the 
throat of a sick horse, who did not know enough to take it 
like a man. 

The idea is — for this case is only meant as an illustra- 
tion of a general principle — that the comfort and enjoy- 
ment of children, as well as the easy and successful work- 
ing of parental government, is greatly promoted by decid- 
ing for the children at once, and placing their action on 
the simj^le ground of obedience to authority in all those 
cases where the decisioji can not really and honestly he 
left to the children themselves. 

To listen reluctantly to the persistent arguments of chil- 
dren in favor of their being allowed to do what we are 
sure that we shall decide in the end that it is not best for 
them to do, and to meet them with counter arguments 
which, if they are not actually false, as they are very apt 
to be in such a case, are utterly powerless, from the inca- 
pacity of the children to appreciate them, on account of 
their being blinded by their wishes, is not to strengthen 
the reasoning powers, but to confuse and bewilder them, 
and impede their development. 

Might Mode of Dealing with the Heason of a Child. 

The effect, however, will be excellent of calling into ex- 
ercise the reason and the judgment of the child in cases 
where the conclusion which he arrives at can be safely al- 
lowed to determine his action. You can help him in such 



236 GENTLE MEASURES. 

cases by giving him any information that he desires, but 
do not embarrass him, and interfere with his exercising his 
own judgment by obtruding advice. Allow him in this 
way to lay out his own garden, to plan the course of a 
walk or a ride, and to decide upon the expenditure of his 
own pocket-money, within certain restrictions in respect to 
such things as would be dangerous or hurtful to himself, 
or annoying to others. As he grows older you can give 
him the charge of the minor arrangements on a journey, 
such as taking care of a certain number of the parcels car- 
ried in the hand, choosing a seat in the car, selecting and 
engaging a hack on arriving at the place of destination. 
Commit such things to his charge only so fast as you can 
really intrust him with power to act, and then, with slight 
and not obtrusive supervision on your part, leave the re- 
sponsibility with him, noticing encouragingly whatever of 
fidelity and success you observ^e, and taking little notice — 
generally, in fact, none at all — of such errors and failures 
as result simply from inexperience and immaturity. 

In a word, make no attempt to seek support from his 
judgment, or by convincing his reason, in important cases, 
where his feelings or w-ishes are involved, but in all such 
cases rest your decisions solely upon your own authority. 
But then, on the other hand, in unimportant cases, where 
no serious evil can result whichever of the various possible 
courses are taken, call his judgment into exercise, and abide 
by its decisions. Give him the responsibility if he likes to 
take it, but with the responsibility give him the power. 

Substantially the same principles as explained above, in 
their application to the exercise of the judgment, apply to 
the cultivation of the reasoning powers — ^that is to say, in 
the act of arguing, or drawing conclusions from premises. 
Nothing can be more unprofitable and useless, to say noth- 
ing of its irritating and vexatious effect, than maintaining 



JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 237 

an argument with a child — or with any body else, in fact — 
to convince him against his will. Arguing very soon de- 
generates, in such a case, into an irritating and utterly use- 
less dispute. The difference of opinion which gives occa- 
sion for such discussions arises generally from the fact that 
the child sees only certain of the more obvious and imme- 
diate relations and bearings of the subject in question, 
which is, in fact, all that can be reasonably expected of 
him, and forms his opinion from these alone. The par- 
ent, on the other hand, takes a wider view, and includes 
among the premises on which his conclusion is founded 
considerations which have never been brought to the at- 
tention of the child. The proper course, therefore, for him 
to pursue in order to bring the child's mind into harmony 
with his own, is not to ridicule the boy's reasoning, or chide 
him for taking so short-sighted a view of the subject, or 
to tell him it is very foolish for him to talk as he does, or 
silence him by a dogmatic decision, delivered in a dictato- 
rial and overbearing manner, all of which is too often found 
to characterize the discussions between parents and chil- 
dren, but calmly and quietly to present to him the consid- 
erations bearing upon the question which he has not yet 
seen. To this end, and to bring the mind of the child into 
that listening and willing state without which all arguments 
and even all attempts at instruction are wasted, we must 
listen candidly to what he says himself, put the best con- 
struction upon it, give it its full force ; see it, in a word, as 
nearly as possible as he sees it, and let him know that we 
do so. Then he will be much more ready to receive 
any additional considerations which we may present to his 
mind, as things that must also be taken into account in 
forming a final judgment on the question. 

A boy, for example, who is full of health and increasing 
vigor, and in whom, of course, those organs on which the 



338 GENTLE MEASURES. 

consciousness of strength and the impulses of courage de- 
pend are in the course of rapid and healthy development, 
in reading to his mother a story in which a thief that came 
into a back store-room of a house in the evening, with a 
bag, to steal meal, was detected by the owner and frighten- 
ed away, looks up from his book and says, in a very valiant 
manner, 

" If I had been there, and had a gun, I would have shot 
him on the spot." 

The Hough Mode of Treatment. 

Now, if the mother wishes to confuse and bewilder, and 
to crush down, so to speak, the reasoning faculties of her 
child, she may say, ' 

" Nonsense, George ! It is of no use for you to talk big 
in that way. You would not dare to fire a gun in such a 
case, still less, to shoot a man. The first thing you would 
do would be to run away and hide. And then, besides, it 
would be very wicked for you to kill a man in that way. 
You would be very likely to get yourself hung for murder. 
Besides, the Bible says that we must not resist evil; so 
you should not talk so coolly about shooting a man." 

The poor boy would be overpowered by such a rebuke as 
this, and perhaps silenced. The incipient and half-formed 
ideas in his mind in respect to the right of self-defense, the 
virtue of courage, the sanctity of life, the nature and the 
limits of the doctrine of non-resistance, would be all thrown 
together into a jumble of hopeless confusion in his mind, 
and the only result would be his muttering to himself, after 
a moment of bewilderment and vexation, "I would shoot 
him, anyhow." Such treatment would not only fail to con- 
vince him that his idea was Avrong, but would effectually 
close his heart against any such conviction. 



JUDGMENT AXD REASONING. 239 

The Gentle Mode of Treatment. 

But let the mother first see and recos-nize those bearin<TS 
EDd relations of the question which the boy sees — that is, 
those which are the most direct and immediate — and allow 
them their full force, and she establishes a sympathy be- 
tween his mind and hers, and prejDares the way for his 
being led by her to taking into the account other consid- 
erations which, though of greater importance, are not so 
obvious, and which it would be wholly uni'easonable to ex- 
pect that the boy would see himself, since they do not come 
within the range of observation that could be reached spon- 
taneously by the unaided faculties of such a child. Sup- 
pose the mother says, in reply to her boy's boastful declara- 
tion that he would «hoot the robber, 

"There would be a certain degree of justice in that, no 
doubt." 

" Yes," rejoins the boy, " it would be no more than he 
deserved." 

" When a man eno:aojes in the commission of a crime " 
adds the mother, " he runs the risk of all the perils that he 
exposes himself to, from the efforts of people to defend 
their property, and perhaps their lives ; so that, perhaps, he 
would have no right to complain if people did shoot at 
him." 

" Xot a bit of right," says the boy. 

"But then there are some other things to be consider- 
ed," says the mother, " which, though they do not show 
that it would be unjust towards him, might make it bad 
for us to shoot him." 

" What things ?" asks the boy. 

The mother having candidly admitted whatever there 
was of truth in the boy's view of the subject, and thus 
placed herself, as it were, side by side with him, he is pre- 



240 GENTLE MEASURES. 

pared to see and admit what she is going to point out to 
his observation — not as something directly antagonistic to 
what he has said, but as something additional, something 
which is also to be taken into the account. 

" In the first place," continues the mother, " there would 
be the body to be disposed of, if you were to shoot him. 
How should we manage about that ?" 

It would make a great difference in such a case in re- 
spect to the danger of putting the boy's mind into a state 
of antagonism against his mother's presentation of the case, 
whether she says, "How shall we manage about that?" or, 
"How will you manage about that?" 

" Oh," replies the boy, " we would send to where he lives, 
and let his people come and take him away ; or, if he was 
in a city, we would call in the police." 

"That would be a good plan," says his mother. "We 
would call in the police, if there were any police at hand. 
But then there would be the blood all over the carpet and 
the floor." 

"There would not be any carpet on the floor in a store- 
room," says the boy. 

"True," replies the mother; "you are right there; so 
that there would not be, after all, any great trouble about 
the blood. But the man might not be killed outright, and 
it might be some time before the policemen would come, 
and we should see him all that time writhing and strug- 
gling in dreadful convulsions, which would fix horrid im- 
pressions upon our minds, that would haunt us for a long 
time afterwards." 

The mother could then go on to explain that, if the man 
had a wife and children, any one who had killed the hus- 
band and father would pity them as long as he lived, and 
could never see them or hear them spoken of without feel- 
ing pain, and even some degree of self-reproach ; although, 



JUDGMENT AND REASONING. 341 

SO far as the man himself was concerned, it might be that 
no injustice had been done. After the excitement was 
over, too, he would begin to make excuses for the man, 
thinking that perhaps he was poor, and his children were 
suffering for bread, and it was on their account that he 
was tempted to steal, and this, though it would not justify, 
might in some degree palliate the act for which he was 
slain ; or that he had been badly brought up, having never 
received any proper instruction, but had been trained and 
taught from his boyhood to pilfer and steal. 

These and many analogous considerations might be pre- 
sented to the child, going to show that, whatever the rule 
of strict justice in respect to the criminal may enjoin, it is 
not right to take the life of a wrong-doer merely to prevent 
the commission of a minor offense. The law of the land 
recognizes this principle, and does not justify the taking of 
life except in extreme cases, such as those of imminent per- 
sonal danger. 

A friendly conversation of this kind, carried on, not in a 
spirit of antagonism to what the boy has said, but in the 
form of presenting information novel to him in respect to 
considerations which were to be taken into the account in 
addition to those which he had himself perceived, will have 
a great effect not only in modifying his opinion m this case, 
but also in impressing him with the general idea that, be- 
fore adopting a decisive opinion on any subject, we must 
take care to acquaint ourselves not merely with the most 
direct and obvious relations of it, but must look farther 
into its bearings and results, so that our conclusion may 
have a solid foundation by reposing upon as many as possi- 
ble of the considerations which ought really to affect it. 
Thus, by avoiding all appearance of antagonism, we secure 
a ready reception for the truths we offer, and cultivate the 
reasoning powers at the same time. 

L 



^3 GENTLE MEASURES. 

General Principles. 

The principles, then, which are meant to be illustrated 
and enforced in this chapter are these : 

1. That the mental faculties of children on which the ex- 
ercise of judgment and of the power of reasoning depend 
are not among those which are the earliest developed, and 
they do not attain, in the first years of life, to such a degree 
of strength or maturity as to justify placing any serious re- 
liance upon them for the conduct of life. 

2. Parents should, accordingly, not put them to any se- 
rious test, or impose any heavy burden upon them ; but 
should rely solely on their own authority, as the expression 
of their own judgment, and not upon their ability to con 
vince the judgment of the child, in important cases, or in 
those where its inclinations or its feelings are concerned. 

3. But they may greatly promote the healthy develop- 
ment of these faculties on the part of their children, by 
bringing to their view the less obvious bearings and rela- 
tions of various acts and occurrences on which judgment is 
to be passed, in cases where their feelings and inclinations 
are not specially concerned — doing this either in the form 
of explaining their own parental principles of management, 
or practically, by intrusting them with responsibility, and 
giving them a degree of actual power commensurate with 
it, in cases where it is safe to do so ; and, 

4. They may enlarge the range of the children's ideas, 
and accustom them to take wider views of the various sub- 
jects which occupy their attention, by discussing with them 
the principles involved in the several cases; but such dis- 
cussions must be conducted in a calm, gentle, and consider- 
ate manner, the parent looking always upon what the child 
says in the most favorable light, putting the best construc- 
tion upon it, and admitting its force, and then presenting 



JUDGMENT AND BEASONINO. 343 

such additional views as ought also to be taken into ac- 
count, with moderate earnestness, and in an unobtrusive 
manner, thus taking short and easy steps himself in order 
to accommodate his own rate of progress to the still imper- 
fectly developed capabilities of the child. 

In a word, it is with the unfolding of the mental faculties 
of the young as it is with the development of their muscles 
and the improvement of their bodily powers; and just as 
the way to teach a child to walk is not to drag him along 
hurriedly and forcibly by the arm faster than he can him- 
self form the necessary steps, but to go slowly, accommoda- 
ting your movements to those which are natural to him, 
and encouraging him by letting him perceive that his own 
efforts produce appreciable and useful results — so, in culti- 
vating any of their thinking and reasoning powers, we must 
not put at the outset too heavy a burden upon them, but 
must call them gently into action, within the limits pre- 
scribed by the degree of maturity to which they have at- 
tained, standing a little aside, as it were, in doing so, and 
encouraging them to do the work themselves, instead of 
taking it out of their hands and doing it for them. 



244 GENTLE MEASURES 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

WISHES AND REQUESTS. 

In respect to the course to be pursued in relation to the 
requests and wishes of children, the following general rules 
result from the principles inculcated in the chapter on 
Judgment and Reasoning, or, at least, are in perfect accord- 
ance with them — namely : 

Absolute Authority in Cases of vital Importance. 

1. In respect to all those questions in the decision of 
which their permanent and essential welfare are involved, 
such as those relating to their health, the company they 
keep, the formation of their characters, the progress of 
their education, and the like, the parent should establish 
and maintain in the minds of the children from their earli- 
est years, a distinct understanding that the decision of all 
such questions is reserved for his own or her own exclusive 
jurisdiction. While on any of the details connected with 
these questions the feelings and wishes of the child ought 
to be ascertained, and, so far as possible, taken into the ac- 
count, the course to be pursued should not, in general, be 
discussed with the child, nor should their objections be re- 
plied to in any form. The parent should simply take such 
objections as the judge takes the papers in a case which 
has been tried before him, and reserve his decision. The 
principles by which the parent is governed in the course 
which he pursues, and the reasons for them, may be made 
the subject of very free conversation, and may be fully ex- 
plained, provided that care is taken that this is never done 



WISHES AND REQUESTS 245 

when any practical question is pending, such as would give 
the explanations of the parent the aspect of persuasions, 
employed to supply the deficiency of authority too weak to 
enforce obedience to a command. It is an excellent thing 
to have children see and appreciate the reasonableness of 
their parents' commands, provided that this reasonableness 
is shown to them in such a way that they are not led to 
imagine that their being able to see it is in any sense a con- 
dition precedent of obedience. 

Great Indulgence in Cases not of vital Importance. 

2. The authority of the parent being thus fully estab- 
lished in regard to all those things which, being of par 
amount importance in respect to the child's present and fu- 
ture welfare, ought to be regulated by the comparative far- 
seeing wisdom of the parent, with little regard to the eva- 
nescent fancies of the child, it is on every account best, 
in respect to all other things, to allow to the children the 
largest possible indulgence. The largest indulgence for 
them in their occupations, their plays, and even in their ca- 
prices and the freaks of their fancy, means freedom of ac- 
tion for their unfolding powers of body and mind; and 
freedom of action for these powers means the most rapid 
and healthy development of them. 

The rule is, in a word, that, after all that is essential for 
their health, the formation of their characters, and their 
progress in study is secured, by being brought under the 
dominion of absolute parental authority, in respect to what 
remains the children are to be indulged and allowed to 
have their own way as much as possible. When, in their 
plays, they come to you for permission to do a particular 
thing, do not consider whether or not it seems to you that 
you would like to do it yourself, but only whether there is 
any real and substantial objection to their doing it. 



346 GENTLE MEASURES. 

The Searing to come before the Decision,^ not after it. 

The courts of justice adopt what seems to be a very sen- 
sible and a very excellent mode of proceeding, though it is 
exactly the contrary to the one which many parents pursue, 
and that is, they hear the case first, and decide afterwards. 
A great many parents seem to prefer to decide first, and 
then hear — that is to say, when the children come to them 
with any request or proposal, they answer at once with a 
refusal more or less decided, and then allow themselves to 
be led into a long discussion on the subject, if discussion 
that may be called which consists chiefly of simple persist- 
ence and importunity on one side, and a gradually relax- 
ing resistance on the other, until a reluctant consent is 
finally obtained. 

Now, just as it is an excellent way to develop and 
strengthen the muscles of a child's arms, for his father to 
hold the two ends of his cane in his hands while the child 
grasps it by the middle, and then for them to pull against 
each other, about the yard, until, finally, the child is allowed 
to get the cane away; so the way to cherish and confirm 
the habit of " teasing " in children is to maintain a discus- 
sion with them for a time in respect to some request which 
is at first denied, and then finally, after a protracted and 
gradually weakening resistance, to allow them to gain the 
victory and carry their point. On the other hand, an abso- 
lutely certain way of preventing any such habit from be- 
ing formed, and of effectually breaking it up when it is 
formed, is the simple process of hearing first, and deciding 
afterwards. 

When, therefore, children come with any request, or ex- 
press any wish, in cases where no serious interests are in- 
volved, in deciding upon the answer to be given, the mother 
should, in general, simply ask herself, not Is it wise ? Will 



WISHES AND REQUESTS. 247 

they succeed in it? Will they enjoy it? Would I like to 
do it if I were they? — but simply, Is there any harm or 
danger in it? If not, readily and cordially consent. But 
do not announce your decision till after you have heard all 
that they have to say, if you intend to hear what they have 
to say at all. 

If there are any objections to what the children propose 
which affect the question in relation to it as a means of 
amusement for them, you may state them in the w^ay of in- 
formation for them, after you have given your consent. In 
that way you present the difficulties as subjects for their 
consideration, and not as objections on your part to their 
plan. But, however serious the difficulties may be in the 
way of the children's accomplishing the object which they 
have in view, they constitute no objection to their mak- 
ing the attempt, provided that their plans involve no seri- 
ous harm or damage to themselves, or to any other per- 
son or interest. 

The Wrong Way. 

Two boys, for example, William and James, who have 
been playing in the yard with their little sister Lucy, come 
in to their mother with a plan for a fish-pond. They wish 
for permission to dig a hole in a corner of the yard and fill 
it with water, and then to get some fish out of the brook to 
put into it. 

The mother, on hearing the proposal, says at once, with- 
out waiting for any explanations, 

" Oh no, I would not do that. It is a very foolish plan. 
You will only get yourselves all muddy. Besides, you 
can't catch any fishes to put into it, and if you do, they 
won't live. And then the grass is so thick that you could 
not get it up to make your hole." 

But William says that they can dig the grass up with 



348 GENTLE MEASURES. 

their little spades. They had tried it, and found that they 
could do so. 

And James says that they have already tried catching 
the fishes, and found that they could do it by means of a 
long-handled dipper; and Lucy says that they will all be 
very careful not to get themselves wet and muddy. 

" But you'll get your feet wet standing on the edge of 
the brook," says the mother. " You can't help it." 

" No, mother," replies James, " there is a large flat stone 
that we can stand upon, and so keep our feet perfectly dry. 
See !" 

So saying, he shows his own feet, which are quite dry. 

Thus the discussion goes on ; the objections made — being, 
as usual in such cases, half of them imaginary ones, brought 
forward only for effect — ai'e one after another disposed of, 
or at least set aside, until at length the mother, as if beaten 
off her ground after a contest, gives a reluctant and hesita- 
ting consent, and the children go away to commence their 
work only half pleased, and separated in heart and affection, 
for the time being, from their mother by not finding in her, 
as they think, any sympathy with them, or disposition to 
aid them in their pleasures. 

They have, however, by their mother's management of 
the case, received an excellent lesson in arguing and teas- 
ing. They have found by it, what they have undoubtedly 
often found on similar occasions before, that their mother's 
first decision is not at all to be taken as a final one; that 
they have only to persevere in replying to her objections 
and answering her arguments, and especially in persisting 
in their importunity, and they will be pretty sure to gain 
their end at last. 

This mode of management, also, has the effect of fixing 
the position of their mother in their minds as one of an- 
tagonism to them in respect to their childish pleasures. 



WISHES AND BEQUJESTS. 249 

The Right Way. 

If in such a case as this the mother wishes to avoid these 
evils, the way is plain. She must first consider the propo- 
sal herself, and come to her own decision in regard to it. 
Before coming to a decision, she may, if she has leisure and 
opportunity, make additional inquiries in respect to the de- 
tails of the plan ; or, if she is otherwise occupied, she may 
consider them for a moment in her own mind. If the ob- 
jections are decisive, she should not state them at the time, 
unless she specially wishes them not to have a fair hearing ; 
for when children have a plan in mind which they are ea- 
ger to carry out, their very eagerness entirely incapacitates 
them for properly appreciating any objections which may 
be offered to it. It is on every account better, therefore — • 
as a general rule — not to offer any such objections at the 
time, but simply to give your decision. 

On the other hand, if there is no serious evil to be 
apprehended in allowing children to attempt to carry any 
particular plan they form into effect, the foolishness of it, 
in a practical point of view, or even the impossibility of 
success in accomplishing the object proposed, constitute 
no valid objection to it; for children amuse themselves as 
much, and sometimes learn as much, and promote as ef- 
fectually the development of their powers and faculties, by 
their failures as by their successes. 

In the case supposed, then, the mother, in order to man- 
age it right, would first consider for a moment whether 
there was any decisive objection to the plan. This would 
depend, perhaps, upon the manner in which the children 
were dressed at the time, or upon the amount of injury 
that would be done to the yard ; and this question would 
in its turn depend, in many cases, on the comparative value 
set by the mother upon the beauty of her yard, and the 

L2 



250 GENTLE MEASURES. 

health, development, and happiness of her children. But 
supposing that she sees — which she can do in most in- 
stances at a glance — that there can no serious harm be 
done by the experiment, but only that it is a foolish plan 
so far as the attainment of the object is concerned, and ut- 
terly hopeless of success, which, considering that the real 
end to be attained is the healthy development of the chil- 
dren's powers by the agreeable exercise of them in useless 
as well as in useful labors, is no objection at all, then she 
should answer at once, " Yes, you can do that if you like ; 
and perhaps I can help you about planning the work." 

After saying this, any pointing out of obstacles and diffi- 
culties on her part does not present itself to their minds in 
the light of opposition to their plan, but of aid in helping it 
forward, and so places her, in their view, on their side, in- 
stead of in antagonism to them. 

"What do you propose to do with the earth that you 
take out of the hole ?" she asks. 

The children had, perhaps, not thought of that. 

" How would it do," continues the mother, " to put it 
in your wheelbarrow and let it stay there, so that in case 
your plan should not succeed — and men, in any thing that 
they undertake, always consider it wise to take into account 
the possibility that they may not succeed — you can easily 
bring it all back and fill up the hole again." 

The children think that would be a very good plan. 

"And how are you going to fill your hole with water 
when you get it dug out ?" asks the mother. 

They were going to carry the water from the pump in a 
pail. 

"And how are you going to prevent spilling the water 
over upon your trowsers and into your shoes while carry- 
ing it ?" 

" Oh, we will be very careful," replied William. 



WISHES AND REQUESTS. 351 

*^How would it do only to fill the pail half full each 
time," suggests the mother. " You would have to go more 
times, it is true, but that would be better than getting 
splashed with water." 

The boys think that that would be a very good plan. 

In this manner the various difficulties to be anticipated 
may be brought to the notice of the children, while, they 
and their mother being in harmony and sympathy with 
each other — and not in opposition — in the consideration of 
them, she can bring them forward without any difficulty, 
and make them the means of teaching the children many 
useful lessons of prudence and precaution. 

Capriciousness in Play. 

The mother, then, after warning the children that they 
must expect to encounter many unexpected difficulties in 
their undertaking, and telling them that they must not be 
too much disappointed if they should find that they could 
not succeed, dismisses them to their work. They proceed 
to dig the hole, putting the materials in the wheelbarrow, 
and then fill up the hole with water brought in half pailf uls 
at a time from the pump ; but are somewhat disappointed 
to find that the water soaks away pretty rapidly into the 
ground, and that, moreover, it is so turbid, and the surface 
is so covered with little leaves, sticks, and dust, as to make 
it appear very doubtful whether they would be able to see 
the fishes if they were to succeed in catching any to put 
in. However, they take their long-handled dipper and pro- 
ceed towards the brook. On the way they stop to gather 
some flowers that grow near the path that leads through 
the field, when the idea suddenly enters Lucy's head that 
it would be better to make a garden than a fish-pond; 
flowers, as she says, being so much prettier than fishes. So 
they all go back to their mother and explain the change of 



352 GENTLE MEASUEES. 

their plan. They ask for leave to dig up a place which 
they had found where the ground was loose and sandy, and 
easy to dig, and to set out flowers in it which they had 
found in the field already in bloom. " We are going to give 
up the fish-pond," they say in conclusion, " because flowers 
are so much prettier than fishes." 

The mother, instead of finding fault with them for being 
so capricious and changeable in their plans, says, " I think 
you are right. Fishes look pretty enough Avhen they are 
swimming in the brook, but flowers are much prettier to 
transport and take care of. But first go and fill up the 
hole you made for the pond with the earth that is in the 
w^heelbarrow ; and when you have made your garden and 
moved the flowers into it, I advise you to get the watering- 
pot and give them a good watering." 

It may be said that children ought to be brought up in 
habits of steadiness and perseverance in what they under- 
take, and that this kind of indulgence in their capricious- 
ness would have a very bad tendency in this respect. The 
answer is, that there are times and seasons for all the dif- 
ferent kinds of lessons which children have to learn, and 
that when in their hours of recreation they are amusing 
themselves in play, lessons in perseverance and system are 
out of place. The object to be sought for then is the ex- 
ercise and growth of their bodily organs and members, the 
development of their fancy and imagination, and their pow- 
ers of observation of nature. The work of training them 
to habits of system and of steady perseverance in serious 
pursuits, which, though it is a work that ought by no means 
to be neglected, is not the appropriate work of such a time. 

Nummary of Hesults. 

The general rules for the governrnent of the parent in his 
traatment of his children's requests and wishes are these; 



WISHES AND REQUESTS. 253 

In all matters of essential importance he is to decide him- 
self and simply announce his decision, without giving any 
reasons for the purpose of justifying it, or for inducing 
submission to it. 

And in all matters not of essential importance he is to 
allow the children the greatest possible fi'eedom of action. 

And the rule for children is that they are always to obey 
the command the first time it is given, without question, 
and to take the first answer to any request without any ob- 
jection or demurring whatever. 

It is very easy to see how smoothly and happily the af- 
fairs of domestic government would go on if these rules 
were established and obeyed. All that is required on the 
part of parents for their complete establishment is, first, 
a clear comprehension of them, and then a calm, quiet, and 
gentle, but still inflexible firmness in maintaining them. 
Unfortunately, however, such qualities as these, simple as 
they seem, are the most rare. If, instead of gentle but firm 
consistency and steadiness of action, ardent, impulsive, and 
capricious energy and violence were required, it would be 
comparatively easy to find them. How seldom do we see a 
mother's management of her children regulated by a calm, 
quiet, gentle, and considerate decision that thinks before it 
speaks in all important matters, and when it speaks, is firm; 
and yet, which readily and gladly accords to the children 
every liberty and indulgence which can do themselves or 
others no harm. And on the other hand, how often do we 
see foolish laxity and indulgence in yielding to importuni- 
ty in cases of vital importance, alternating with vexatious 
ihwartings, rebuffs, and refusals in I'esjDect to desires and 
wishes the gratification of which could do no injury at all» 



254 GENTLE MEASURES. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

CHILDREN'S QUESTIONS. 

The disposition to ask questions, which is so universal 
and so strong a characteristic of childhood, is the open door 
which presents to the mother the readiest and most easy- 
access possible to the mind and heart of her child. The 
opportunities and facilities thus afforded to her would be 
the source of the greatest pleasure to herself, and of the 
greatest benefit to her child, if she understood better how 
to avail herself of them. I propose, in this chapter, to give 
some explanations and general directions for the guidance 
of mothers, of older brothers and sisters, and of teachers — 
of all persons, in fact, who may, from time to time, have 
young children under their care or in their society. I have 
no doubt that some of my rules will strike parents, at first 
view, as paradoxical and, perhaps, almost absurd ; but I 
hope that on more mature reflection they will be found to 
be reasonable and just. 

The Curiosity of Children not a Fault. 

1. The curiosity of children is not a fault, and therefore 
we must never censure them for asking questions, or lead 
them to think that w^e consider the disposition to do so a 
fault on their part; but, on the other hand, this disposition 
is to be encouraged as much as possible. 

We must remember that a child, when his powers of ob- 
servation begin to be developed, finds every thing around 
him full of mystery and wonder. Why some things are 
hard and some are soft — why some things will roll and 



CHILDREN'S QWESTIONS. 255 

some will not — why he is not hurt when he falls on the 
sofa, and is hurt when he falls on the floor — why a chair 
will tumble over when he climbs up by the rounds of it, 
while yet the steps of the stairs remain firm and can be as- 
cended without danger — why one thing is black, and anoth- 
er red, and another green — why water will all go away of 
itself from his hands or his dress, while mud will not — why 
he can dig in the ground, but can not dig in a floor — all is a 
mystery, and the little adventurer is in a continual state of 
curiosity and wonder, not only to learn the meaning of all 
these things, but also of desire to extend his observations, 
and find out more and more of the astonishing phenomena 
that are exhibited around him. The good feeling of the 
mother, or of any intelligent friend who is willing to aid 
him in his efforts, is, of course, invaluable to him as a 
means of promoting his advancement in knowledge and of 
developing his powers. 

Remember, therefore, that the disposition of a child to 
ask questions is not a fault, but only an indication of his in- 
creasing mental activity, and of his desire to avail himself 
of the only means within his reach of advancing his knowl- 
edge and of enlarging the scope of his intelligence in re- 
spect to the strange and wonderful phenomena constantly 
observable around him. 

Sometimes, perha'ps, a Source of Inconvenience. 

Of course there will be times when it is inconvenient for 
the parent to attend to the questions of the child, and when 
he must, consequently, be debarred of the pleasure and priv- 
ilege of asking them ; but even at such times as these the 
disposition to ask them must not be attributed to him as a 
fault. Never tell him that he is " a little tease " — that " you 
are tired to death of answering his questions" — that he is 
"a chatter- box that would weary the patience of Job;" or 



256 GENTLE MEASTTRES. 

that, if he will " sit still for half an hour, without speaking 
a word, you will give him a reward." If you are going to 
be engaged, and so can not attend to hira, say to him that 
you wish you could talk with him, and answer the ques- 
tions, but that you are going to be busy and can not do it; 
and then, after providing hira with some other means of oc- 
cupation, require him to be silent : though even then you 
ought to relieve the tedium of silence for him by stopping 
every ten or fifteen minutes from your reading, or your let- 
ter-writing, or the planning of your work, or whatever your 
employment may be, and giving your attention to him for 
a minute or two, and affording him an opportunity to re- 
lieve the pressure on his mind by a little conversation. 

Answers to he short and simple. 

2. Give generally to children's questions the shortest and 
simplest answers possible. 

One reason why parents find the questions of children so 
fatiguing to them, is that they attempt too much in their an- 
swers. If they would give the right kind of answers, they 
would find the work of replying very easy, and in most of 
their avocations it would occasion them very little interrup- 
tion. These short and simple answers are all that a child 
requires. A full and detailed explanation of any thing they 
ask about is as tiresome for them to listen to as it is for 
the mother to frame and give ; while a short and simple re- 
ply which advances them one step in their knowledge of 
the subject is perfectly easy for the mother to give, and is, 
at the same time, all that they wish to receive. 

Yov example, let us suppose that the father and mother 
are ^aking a ride on a summer afternoon after a shower, 
with little Johnny sitting upon the seat between them in 
the chaise. The parents are engaged in conversation with 
each other, we will suppose, and would not like to be inter- 



CHILDREN'S QUESTIONS. 257 

rupted. Johnny presently spies a rainbow on a cloud in 
the east, and, after uttering an exclamation of delight, asks 
his mother what made the rainbow. She hears the ques- 
tion, and her mind, glancing for a moment at the difficulty 
of giving an intelligible explanation of so grand a phenome- 
non to such a child, experiences an obscure sensation of per- 
plexity and annoyance, but not quite enough to take off her 
attention from her conversation ; so she goes on and takes 
no notice of Johnny's inquiry. Johnny, accordingly, soon 
repeats it, " Mother ! mother ! what makes the rainbow ?" 

At length her attention is forced to the subject, and she 
either tells Johnny that she can't explain it to him — that 
he is not old enough to understand it ; or, perhaps, scolds 
him for interrupting her with so many teasing questions. 

In another such case, the mother, on hearing the ques- 
tion, pauses long enough to look kindly and with a smile of 
encouragement upon her face towards Johnny, and to say 
simply, "The sun," and then goes on with her conversation. 
Johnny says " Oh !" in a tone of satisfaction. It is a new 
and grand idea to him that the suii makes the rainbow, and 
it is enough to fill his mind with contemplation for several 
minutes, during which his parents go on without interrup- 
tion in their talk. Presently Johnny asks again, 

"Mother, how does the sun make the rainbow ?" 

His mother answers in the same way as before, "By 
shining on the cloud;" and, leaving that additional idea 
for Johnny to reflect upon and receive fully into his mind, 
turns again to her husband and resumes her conversation 
with him after a scarcely perceptible interruption. 

Johnny, after having reflected in silence some minutes, 
during which he has looked at the sun and at the rainbow, 
and observed that the cloud on which the arch is formed is 
exactly opposite to the sun, and fully exposed to his beams, 
is prepared for another step, and asks, 



258 GENTLE MEASURES. 

'* Mother, how does the sun make a rainbow by shining 
on the cloud ?" 

His mother replies that it shines on millions of little 
drops of rain in the cloud, and makes them of all colors, 
like drops of dew on the ground, and all the colors togeth- 
er make the rainbow. 

Here are images presented to Johnny's mind enough to 
occupy his thoughts for a considerable interval, when per- 
haps he will have another question still, to be answered by 
an equally short and simple reply ; though, probably, by 
this time his curiosity will have become satisfied in respect 
to his subject of inquiry, and his attention will have been 
arrested by some other object. 

To answer the child's questions in this way is so easy, 
and the pauses which the answers lead to on the part of the 
questioner are usually so long, that very little serious inter- 
ruption is occasioned by them to any of the ordinary pur- 
suits in which a mothei' is engaged ; and the little interrup- 
tion which is caused is greatly overbalanced by the pleas- 
ure which the mother will experience in witnessing the 
gratification and improvement of the child, if she really 
loves him, and is seriously interested in the development of 
his thinking and reasoning powers. 

Answers should attempt to communicate hut little InstruC' 

tion. 

3. The answers which are given to children should not 
only be short and simple in form, but each one should be 
studiously designed to communicate as small an amount of 
information as possible. 

This may seem, at first view, a strange idea, but the im- 
port of it simply is that, in giving the child his intellectual 
nourishment, you must act as you do in respect to his bod- 
ily food — that is, divide what he is to receive into small 



CHILDREN'S QUESTIONS. 261 

portions, and administer a little at a time. If you give him 
too much at once in either case, you are in clanger of chok- 
ing him. 

For example, Johnny asks some morning in the early 
winter, when the first snow is falling, and he has been 
watching it for some time from the window in wonder and 
delight, "Mother, what makes it snow?" Now, if the 
mother imagines that she must give any thing like a full 
answer to the question, her attention must be distracted 
from her work to enable her to frame it; and if she does 
not give up the attempt altogether, and rebuke the boy for 
teasing her with " so many silly questions," she perhaps sus- 
pends her work, and, after a moment's perplexing thought, 
she says the vapor of the water from the rivers and seas 
and damp ground rises into the air, and there at last con- 
geals into flakes of snow, and these fall through the air to 
the ground. 

The boy listens and attempts to understand the explana- 
tion, but he is bewildered and lost in the endeavor to take 
in at once this extended and complicated j)rocess — one 
which is, moreover, not only extended and complicated, but 
which is composed of elements all of which are entirely 
new to him. 

If the mother, however, should act on the principle of 
communicating as small a portion of the information re- 
quired as it is possible to give in one answer, Johnny's in- 
quiry would lead, probably, to a conversation somewhat like 
the following, the answers on the part of the mother being so 
short and simple as to require no perceptible thought on her 
part, and so occasioning no serious interruption to her work, 
unless it should be something requiring special attention. 

" Mother," asks Johnny, " what makes it snow ?" 

" It is the snow-flakes coming down out of the sky," says 
his mother. " Watch them !" 



363 GENTLE MEASURES. 

" Oh !" says Johnny, uttering the child's little exclania- 
tion of satisfaction. He looks at the flakes as they fall, 
catching one after another with his eye, and following it in 
its meandering descent. He will, perhaps, occupy himself 
several minutes in silence and profound attention, in bring- 
ing fully to his mind the idea that a snow-storm consists of 
a mass of descending flakes of snow falling through the air. 
To us, who are familiar with this fact, it seems nothing to 
observe this, but to him the analyzing of the phenomenon, 
which before he had looked upon as one grand spectacle 
filling the whole sky, and only making an impression on his 
mind by its general effect, and resolving it into its element- 
al parts of individual flakes fluttering down through the air, 
is a great step. It is a step which exercises his nascent 
powers of observation and reflection very deeply, and gives 
him full occupation for quite a little interval of time. At 
length, when he has familiarized himself with this idea, he 
asks again, perhaps, 

" Where do the flakes come from, mother ?" 
" Out of the sky." 

" Oh !" says Johnny again, for the moment entirely sat- 
isfied. 

One miofht at first think that these w'ords would be al- 
most unmeaning, or, at least, that they would give the Httle 
questioner no real information. But they do give him in- 
formation that is both important and novel. They advance 
him one step in his inquiry. Out of the sky means, to him, 
from a great height. The words give him to understand 
that the flakes are not formed where they first come int(7 
his view, but that they descend from a higher region. Af 
ter reflecting on this idea a moment, he asks, we will sup 
pose, 

" How high in the sky, mother ?" 

Now, perhaps, a mother might think that there was no 



\ 



CHILDREN'S QUESTIONS. 263 

possible answer to be given to such a question as this ex- 
cept that "she does not know;" inasmuch as few persons 
have any accurate ideas of the elevation in the atmosphere 
at which snow-clouds usually form. But this accurate in- 
formation is not what the child requires. If the mother 
possessed it, it would be useless for her to attempt to com- 
municate it to him. In the sense in which he asks the 
question she does understand it, and can give him a perfect- 
ly satisfactory answer. 

"How high is it in the sky, mother, to where the snow 
comes from ?" asks the child. 

" Oh, very high — higher than the top of the house," re- 
plies the mother. 

"As high as the top of the chimney?" 

" Yes, higher than that." 

"As high as the moon?" 

" l!^o, not so high as the moon." 

"How high is it then, mother?" 

" About as high as birds can fly." 

" Oh !" says Johnny, perfectly satisfied. 

The answer is somewhat indefinite, it is true, but its in- 
definiteness is the chief element in the value of it. A defi- 
nite and precise answer, even if one of that character were 
ready at hand, would be utterly inappropriate to the occasion. 

An Answer may even he good which gives no Informa- 
tion at all. 

4. It is not even always necessary that an answer to a 
child's question should convey any information at all. A 
little couA^ersation on the subject of the inquiry, giving the 
child an opportunity to hear and to use language in respect 
to it, is often all that is required. 

It must be remembered that the power to express 
thoughts, or to represent external objects by language, is 



2C4 GENTLE MEASURES. 

a new power to young children, and, like all other new pow- 
ers, the mere exercise of it gives great pleasure. If a per- 
son in full health and vigor were suddenly to acquire the 
art of flying, he would take great pleasure in moving, by 
means of his wings, through the air from one high point to 
another, not because he had any object in visiting those 
high points, but because it would give him pleasure to find 
that he could do so, and to exercise his newly acquired 
power. So with children in their talk. They talk often, 
perhaps generally, for the sake of the pleasure of talking^ 
not for the sake of what they have to say. So, if you will 
only talk with them and allow them to talk to you about 
any thing that interests them, they are pleased, w^hether you 
communicate to them any new information or not. This 
sino-le thought, once fully understood by a mother, will save 
her a great deal of trouble in answering the incessant ques- 
tions of her children. The only essential thing in many 
cases is to say somethi7ig in reply to the question, no mat- 
ter whether what you say communicates any information 
or not. 

If a child asks, for instance, what makes the stars shine 
so, and his mother answers, " Because they are so bright," 
he will be very likely to be as well satisfied as if she at- 
tempted to give a philosophical explanation of the phenom- 
enon. So, if he asks what makes him see himself in the 
looking-glass, she may answer, " You see an image of your- 
self there. They call it an image. Hold up a book and 
see if you can see an image of that in the glass too." He 
is pleased and satisfied. Nor are such answers useless, as 
might at first be supposed. They give the child practice 
in the use of language, and, if propei'ly managed, they may 
be made the means of greatly extending his knowledge of 
language and, by necessary consequence, of the ideas and 
realities which language represents. 



CHILDREN'S QUESTIONS. 2G5 

"Father," says Mary, as she is walking with her father 
in the garden, " what makes some roses white and some 
red?" "It is very curious, is it not?" says her father. 
" Yes, father, it is very curious indeed. What makes it 
so ?" " There must be some cause for it," says her father. 
"And the apples that grow on some trees are sweet, and on 
others they are sour. That is curious too." "Yes verv 
curious indeed," says Mary. " The leaves of trees seem to 
be always green," contiimes her father, " though the flowers 
are of various colors." " Yes, father," says Mary. " Ex- 
cept," adds her father, " when they turn yellow, and red, 
and brown, in the fall of the year." 

A conversation like this, without attempting any thing 
like an answer to the question with which it commenced, is 
as satisfactory to the child, and perhaps as useful in devel- 
oping its powers and increasing its knowledge of language, 
as any attempt to explain the phenomenon would be; and 
the knowledge of this will make it easy for the mother to 
dispose of many a question which might seriously interrupt 
her if she conceived it necessary either to attempt a satisfac- 
tory explanation of the difficulty, or not to answer it at all. 

Be always ready to say ^^I dorCt hnowP 

5. The mother should be always ready and willing to say 
" I don't know," in answer to children's questions. 

Parents and teachers are very often somewhat averse to 
this, lest, by often confessing their own ignorance, they 
should lower themselves in the estimation of their pupils 
or their children. So they feel bound to give some kind of 
an explanation to every difficulty, in hopes that it may sat- 
isfy the inquirer, though it does not satisfy themselves. 
But this is a great mistake. The sooner that pupils and 
children understand that the field of knowledge is utterly 
boundless, and that it is only a very small portion of it that 

M 



266 GENTLE MEASURES. 

their superiors in age and attainment have yet explored, 
the better for all concerned. The kind of superiority, in 
the estimation of children, which it is chiefly desirable to 
attain, consists in their always finding that the explanation 
which we give, whenever we attempt any, is clear, f air ^ and 
satisfactory, not in our being always ready to offer an ex- 
planation, whether satisfactory or not. 

Questions on Religious Subjects. 

The considerations presented in this chapter relate chief- 
ly to the questions which children ask in respect to what 
they observe taking place around them in external nature. 
There is another class of questions and difficulties which 
they raise — namely, those that relate to religious and moral 
subjects; and to these I have not intended now to refer. 
The inquiries which children make on these subjects arise, 
in a great measure, from the false and puerile conceptions 
which they arc so apt to form in respect to spiritual things, 
and from which they deduce all sorts of absurdities. The 
false conceptions in which their difficulties originate are 
due partly to errors and imperfections in our modes of 
teaching them on these subjects, and partly to the imma- 
turity of their powers, which incapacitates them from 
clearly comprehending any elements of thought that lie 
beyond the direct cognizance of the senses. We shall, 
however, have occasion to refer to this subject in another 
chapter. 

In respect, however, to all that class of questions which 
children ask in relation to the visible world around them, 
the principles here explained may render the mother some 
aid in her intercourse with the little learners under her 
'charge, if she clearly understands and intelligently applies 
them. And she will find the practice of holding frequent 
conversations with them, in these ways, a source of great 



CHILDBED'S QUESTIONS. 367 

pleasure to her, as well as of unspeakable advantage to 
them. Indeed, the conversation of a kind and intelligent 
mother is far the most valuable and important means of 
education for a child during many years of its early life. 
A boy whose mother is pleased to have him near her, who 
likes to hear and answer his questions, to watch the grad- 
ual development of his thinking and reasoning powers, and 
to enlarge and extend his knowledge of language — thus 
necessarily and of course expanding the range and scope 
of his ideas — will find that though his studies, strictly so 
called — that is, his learning to read, and the committing to 
memory lessons from books — may be deferred, yet, when 
he finally commences them he will go at once to the head 
of his classes at school, through the superior strength and 
ampler development which his mental powers will have 
attained. 



268 GENTLE MEASURES. 



CHAPTER XX, 

THE USE OF MONEY. 

The money question in the management and training of 
children has a distinct bearing on the subjects of some of 
the preceding chapters. It is extremely important, first, in 
respect to opportunities which are afforded in connection 
with the use of money for cultivating and developing the 
qualities of sound judgment and of practical wisdom; and 
then, in the second place, the true course to be pursued 
with them in respect to money forms a special point to be 
considered in its bearing upon the subject of the proper 
mode of dealing with their wishes and requests. 

Evil Results of a very Common Method. 

If a parent wishes to eradicate from the mind of his boy 
all feelings of delicacy and manly pride, to train him to the 
habit of obtaining what he wants by importunity or servil- 
ity, and to prevent his having any means of acquiring any 
practical knowledge of the right use of money, any princi- 
ples of economy, or any of that forethought and thrift so 
essential to sure prosperity in future life, the best way to 
accomplish these ends would seem to be to have no system 
in supplying him with money in his boyish days, but to 
give it to him only when he asks for it, and in quantities 
determined only by the frequency and importunity of his 
calls. 

Of course under such a system the boy has no induce- 
ment to take care of his money, to form any plans of ex- 
penditure, to make any calculations, to practise self-denial 



THE USE OF MONET. 269 

to-day for the sake of a greater good to-morrow. The 
source of supply from which he draws money, fitful and 
uncertain as it may be in what it yields to him, he consid- 
ers unlimited ; and as the amount which he can draw from 
it does not depend at all upon his frugality, his foresight, 
or upon any incipient financial skill that he may exercise, 
but solely upon his adroitness in coaxing, or his persistence 
in importunity, it is the group of bad qualities, and not the 
good, which such management tends to foster. The effect 
of such a system is, in other words, not to encourage the 
development and growth of those qualities on which thrift 
and forehandedness in the management of his affairs in fu- 
ture life, and, in consequence, his success and prosperity, 
depend ; but, on the contrary, to cherish the growth of aU 
the mean and ignoble propensities of human nature by ac- 
customing him, so far as relates to this subject, to gain his 
ends by the arts of a sycophant, or by rude pertinacity. 

Not that this system always produces these results. It 
may be, and perhaps generally is, greatly modified by other 
influences acting upon the mind of the child at the same 
time, as well as by the natural tendencies of the boy's char- 
acter, and by the character and general influence upon him 
of his father and mother in other respects. It can not be 
denied, however, that the above is the tendency of a system 
which makes a boy's income of spending-money a matter 
of mere chance, on which no calculations can be founded, 
except so far as he can increase it by adroit manoeuvring or 
by asking for it directly, with more or less of urgency or 
persistence, as the case may require ; that is to say, by pre- 
cisely those means which are the most ignoble and most 
generally despised by honorably-minded men as means for 
the attainment of any human end. -^ 

Now one of the most important parts of the education 
of both girls and boys, whether they are to inherit riches, 



270 GENTLE MEASURES. 

or to enjoy a moderate income from the fruits of their own 
industry, or to spend their lives in extreme poverty, is to 
teach them the proper management and use of money. 
And this may be very effectually done by giving them a 
fixed and definite income to manage, and then throwing 
upon them the responsibility of the management of it, with 
such a degree of guidance, encouragement, and aid as a 
parent can easily render. 

Objection to the Plan of a regular Allowance. 

There are no parents among those who will be likely to 
read this book of resources so limited that they will not, 
from time to time, allow their children some amount of 
spending-money in a year. All that is necessary, therefore, 
is to appropriate to them this amount and pay it to them, 
or credit them w^ith it, in a business-like and regular man- 
ner. It is true that by this system the children will soon 
begin to regard their monthly or weekly allowance as their 
due ; and the parent will lose the pleasure, if it is any 
pleasure to him or her, of having the money which they 
give them regarded in each case as a present, and received 
with a sense of obligation. This is sometimes considered 
an objection to this plan. "When I furnish my children 
with money," says the parent, " as a gratification, I wish to 
have the pleasure of giving it to them. Whereas, on this 
proposed plan of paying it to them regularly at stated in- 
tervals, they will come to consider each payment as simply 
the payment of a debt. I wish them to consider it as a 
gratuity on my part, so that it may awaken gratitude and 
renew their love for me." 

There is some seeming force in this objection, though it 
is true that the adoption of the plan of a systematic appro- 
priation, as here recommended, does not prevent the mak- 
ing of presents of money, or of any thing else, to the chil- 



THE USE OF MONEY. 271 

dren, whenever either parent desires to do so. Still the 
plan will not generally be adopted, except by parents in 
whose minds the laying of permanent foundations for their 
children's welfare and happiness through life, by training 
them from their earliest years to habits of forecast and thrift, 
and the exercise of judgment and skill in the management 
of money, is entirely paramount to any petty sentimental 
gratification to themselves, while the children are young. 

Two Methods. 

In case the parent — it may be either the father or the 
mother — decides to adopt the plan of appropriating sys- 
tematically and regularly a certain sum to be at the dispos- 
al of the child, there are two modes by which the business 
may be transacted — one by paying over the money itself in 
the amounts and at the stated periods determined upon, 
and the other by opening an account with the child, and 
giving him credit from time to time for the amount due, 
charging on the other side the amounts which he draws. 

1. Paying the money. This is the simplest plan. If it 
is adopted, the money must be ready and be paid at the 
appointed time with the utmost exactitude and certainty. 
Having made the arrangement with a child that he is to 
have a certain sum— six cents, twelve cents, twenty-five 
cents, or more, as the case may be— every Saturday night, 
the mother— if it is the mother who has charge of the ex- 
ecution of the plan— must consider it a sacred debt, and 
must be always ready. She can not expect that her chil- 
dren will learn regularity, punctuality, and system in the 
management of their money affairs, if she sets them the ex- 
ample of laxity and forgetfulness in fulfilling her engage- 
ments, and offering excuses for non-payment when the time 
comes, instead of having the money ready when it is due. 
The money, when paid, should not, in general, be carried by 



3?2 GENTLE MEASURES. 

the children about the person, but they should be provided 
with a purse or other safe receptacle, which, however, 
should be entirely in their custody, and so exposed to all 
the accidents to which any carelessness in the custody 
would expose it. The mother must remember that the 
very object of the plan is to have the children learn by ex- 
perience to take care of money themselves, and that she de- 
feats that object by virtually relieving them of this care. 
It should, therefore, be paid to them with the greatest 
punctuality, especially at the first introduction of the sys- 
tem, and with the distinct understanding that the charge 
and care of keeping it devolves entirely upon them from 
the time of its passing into their hands. 

2. Opening an account. The second plan, and one that 
will prove much the most satisfactory in its wotking — 
though many mothers will shrink from it on the ground 
that it would make them a great deal of trouble — is to keep 
an account. For this purpose a small book should be made, 
with as many leaves as there are children, so that for each 
account there can be two pages. The book should be ruled 
for accounts, and the name of each child should be entered 
at the head of the two pages appropriated to his account. 
Then, from time to time, the amount of his allowance that 
has fallen due should be entered on the credit side, and any 
payment made to him on the other. 

The plan of keeping an account in this way obviates the 
necessity of paying money at stated times, for the account 
will show at any time how much is due. 

There are some advantages in each of these modes. 
Much depends on the age of the children, and still more 
upon the facilities which the father or mother have at hand 
for making entries in writing. To a man of business, ac- 
customed to accounts, who could have a book made small 
enough to go into his wallet, or to a mother who is system- 



THE USE OF MONEY. 273 

atic in her habits, and has in her work-table or her secre- 
tary facilities for writing at any time, the j^lan of opening 
an account will be found much the best. It will afford an 
opportunity of giving the children a great deal of useful 
knowledge in respect to account-keeping — or, rather, by ha- 
bituating them from an early age to the management of 
their affairs in this systematic manner, will train them from 
the beginning to habits of system and exactness. A very 
perceptible effect in this direction will be produced on the 
minds of children, even while they have not yet learned to 
read, and so can not understand at all the written record 
made of their pecuniary transactions. They will, at any 
rate, understand that a written record is made ; they will 
take a certain pi-ide and pleasure in it, and impressions will 
be produced which may have an effect upon their habits of 
accuracy and system in their pecuniary transactions through 
all future life. 

Interest on Balances. 

One great advantage of the plan of having an account 
over that of paying cash at stated times is, that it affords 
an opportunity for the father or mother to allow interest 
for any balances left from time to time in their hands, so as 
to initiate the children into a knowledge of the nature and 
the advantages of productive investments, and familiarize 
them with the idea that money reserved has within it a 
principle of increase. The interest allowed should be alto- 
gether greater than the regular rate, so as to make the ad- 
vantage of it in the case of such small sums appreciable to 
the children — but not too great. Some judgment and dis- 
cretion must be exercised on this as on all other points con- 
nected with the system. 

The arrangements for the keeping of an account being 
made, and the account opened, there is, of course, no neces- 

M2 



274 GENTLE MEASURES. 

sity, as in the case of payments made simply in cash, that 
the business should be transacted at stated times. At any 
time when convenient, the entry may be made of the amount 
which has become due since the time of the last entry. 
And when, from time to time, the child wishes for money, 
the parent w411 look at his account and see if there is a bal- 
ance to his credit. If there is, the child will be entitled to 
receive whatever he desires up to the amount of the bal- 
ance. Once in a month, or at any other times when con- 
venient, the account can be settled, and the balance, with 
the accrued interest, carried to a new account. 

All this, instead of being a trouble, will only be a source 
of interest and pleasure to the parent, as well as to the 
children themselves, and, without occupying any sensible 
portion of time, will be the means of gradually communi- 
cating a great deal of very useful instruction. 

Employment of the Money. 

It will have a great effect in "training up children in the 
way in which they should go," in respect to the employ- 
ment of money, if a rule is made for them that a certain 
portion, one -quarter or one -half, for example, of all the 
money which comes into their possession, both from their 
regular allowance and from gratuities, is to be laid aside 
as a permanent investment, and an account at some Sav- 
ings Bank be opened, or some other formal mode of plac- 
ing it be adopted — the bank-book or other documentary 
evidence of the amount so laid up to be deposited among 
the child's treasures 

In respect to the other portion of the money — namely, 
that which is to be employed by the children themselves 
as spending-money, the disbursement of it should be left 
entirely at their discretion, subject only to the restriction 
that they are not to buy any thing that will be injurious 



THE USE OF MONET. 275 

or dangerous to themselves, or a means of disturbance or 
annoyance to others. The mother may give them any in- 
formation or any counsel in regard to the employment of 
their money, provided she does not do it in the form of 
expressing any wish, on her part, in regard to it. For the 
very object of the whole plan is to bring out into action, 
and thus to develop and strengthen, the judgment and dis- 
cretion of the child ; and just as children can not learn to 
walk by always being carried, so they can not learn to be 
good managers without having the responsibility of actual 
management, on a scale adapted to their years, thrown real- 
ly upon them. If a boy wishes to buy a bow and arrow, it 
may in some cases be right not to give him permission to 
do it, on account of the danger accompanying the use of 
such a plaything. But if he wishes to buy a kite which 
the mother is satisfied is too large for him to manage, or 
if she thinks there are so many trees about the house that 
he can not prevent its getting entangled in them, she must 
not object to it on that account. She can explain these 
dangers to the boy, if he is inclined to listen, but not in a 
way to show that she herself wishes him not to buy the 
kite. " Those are the difficulties which you may meet 
with," she may say, " but you may buy the kite if you 
think best." 

Then when he meets with the difficulties, when he finds 
that he can not manage the kite, or that he loses it among 
the trees, she must not triumph over him, and say, " I told 
you how it would be. You would not take my advice, and 
now you see how it is." On the contrary, she must help 
him, and try to alleviate his disappointment, saying, " N"ev- 
er mind. It is a loss, certainly. But you did what you 
thought was best at the time, and we all meet with losses 
sometimes, even when we have done what we thought was 
best. You will make a great many other mistakes, proba- 



276 GENTLE MEASURES. 

bly, hereafter in spending money, and meet with losses ; 
and this one will give you an opportunity of learning to 
bear them like a man." 

The 7nost implicit Faith to he kept with Children in 
Money Transactions, 

I will not say that a father, if he is a man of business, 
ought to be as jealous of his credit with his children as he 
is of his credit at the bank ; but 1 think, if he takes a right 
view of the subject, he will be extremely sensitive in re- 
spect to both. If he is a man of high and honorable sen- 
timents, and especially if he looks forward to future years 
when his children shall have arrived at maturity, or shall 
be approaching towards it, and sees how important and 
how delicate the pecuniary relations between himself and 
them may be at that time, he will feel the importance of 
beginning by establishing, at the very commencement, not 
only by means of precept, but by example, a habit of pre- 
cise, systematic, and scrupulous exactitude in the fulfillment 
of every pecuniary obligation. It is not necessary that he 
should do any thing mean or small in his dealings with 
them in order to accomplish this end. He may be as lib- 
eral and as generous with them in many ways as he pleases, 
but he must keep his accounts with them correctly. He 
must always, without any demurring or any excuse, be 
ready to fulfill his engagements, and teach them to fulfill 
theirs. 

Possible Range of Transactions between Parents and 

Children. 

The parent, after having initiated his children into the 
regular transaction of business by his mode of managing 
their allowance-fund, may very advantageously extend the 
benefits of the system by engaging with them from time to 



THE USE OF MONEY. 377 

time in other affairs, to be regulated in a business-like and 
systematic manner. For example, if one of his boys has 
been reserving a portion of his spending-money as a watch- 
fund, and has already half enough for the purchase, the 
father may offer to lend him the balance and take a mort- 
gage of the watch, to stand until the boy shall have taken 
it up out of future savings ; and he can make out a mort- 
gage-deed expressing in a few and simple words the fact 
that the watch is pledged to him as security for the sum 
advanced, and is not to become the absolute pro23erty of 
the boy till the money for which it is pledged is paid. In 
the course of years, a great number of transactions in this 
way may take place between the father or mother and their 
boy, each of which will not only be a source of interest and 
enjoyment to both parties, but will afford the best possible 
means of imparting, not only to the child directly interested 
in them, but to the other children, a practical knowledge of 
financial transactions, and of forming in them the habit of 
conducting all their affairs in a systematic and business-Hke 
manner. 

The number and variety of such transactions in which 
the modes of doing business among men may be imitated 
with children, greatly to their enjoyment and interest, is 
endless. I could cite an instance when what was called a 
bank was in operation for many years among a certain 
number of children, with excellent effect. One was ap- 
pointed president, another cashier, another paying - teller. 
There was a ledger nnder the charge of the cashier, with a 
list of stockholders, and the number of shares held by each, 
which was in proportion to the respective ages of the chil- 
dren. The bank building was a little toy secretary, some- 
thing in the form of a safe, into which there mysteriously 
appeared, from time to time, small sums of money ; the 
stockholders being as ignorant of the source from which 



278 GENTLE MEASURES. 

the profits of the bank were derived as most stockholders 
probably are in the case of larger and more serious insti- 
tutions. Once in six months, or at other periods, the mon- 
ey was counted, a dividend was declared, and the stock- 
holders were paid in a regular and business-like manner. 

The effect of such methods as these is not only to make 
the years of childhood pass more pleasantly, but also to 
prepare them to enter, when the time comes, upon the seri- 
ous business of life with some considerable portion of that 
practical wisdom in the management of money which is 
often, when it is deferred to a later period, acquired only 
by bitter experience and through much suffering. 

Indeed, any parent who appreciates and fully enters into 
the views presented in this chapter will find, in ordinary 
cases, that his children make so much progress in business 
capacity that he can extend the system so as to embrace 
subjects of real and serious importance before the children 
arrive at maturity. A boy, for instance, who has been 
trained in this way will be found competent, by the time 
that he is ten or twelve years old, to take the contract for 
furnishing himself with caps, or boots and shoes, and, a few 
years later, with all his clothing, at a specified annual sum. 
The sum fixed upon in the case of caps, for example, should 
be intermediate between that which the caps of a boy of 
ordinary heedlessness would cost, and that which would be 
suflacient with special care, so that both the father and the 
son could make money, as it were, by the transaction. Of 
course, to manage such a system successfully, so that it 
could afterwards be extended to other classes of expenses, 
requires tact, skill, system, patience, and steadiness on the 
part of the father or mother who should attempt it; but 
when the parent possesses these qualities, the time and at- 
tention that would be required would be as nothing com- 
pared with the trouble, the vexation, the endless dissatisfac- 



THE USE OF MONEY. 279 

tion on both sides, that attend upon the ordinary methods 
of supplying children's wants — to say nothing of the incal- 
culable benefit to the boy himself of such a training, as a 
part of his preparation for future life. 

Evil Mesults to he feared. 
Nor is it merely upon the children themselves, and that 
after they enter upon the responsibilities of active life, that 
the evils resulting from their having had no practical train- 
ing in youth in respect to pecuniary responsibilities and 
obligations, that evil consequences will fall. The great cit- 
ies are full of wealthy men whose lives are rendered miser- 
able by the recklessness in respect to money which is dis- 
played by their sons and daughters as they advance towards 
maturity, and by the utter want, on their part, of all sense 
of delicacy, and of obligation or of responsibility of any 
kind towards their parents in respect to their pecuniary 
transactions. Of course this must, in a vast number of 
cases, be the result when the boy is brought up from infan- 
cy with the idea that the only limit to his supply of money 
is his ingenuity in devising modes of putting a pressure 
upon his father. Fifteen or twenty years spent in mana- 
ging his affairs on this principle must, of course, produce 
the fruit naturally to be expected from such seed. 

The great Difficulty. 

It would seem, perhaps, at first view, from what has been 
said in this chapter, that it would be a very simple and easy 
thing to train up children thus to correct ideas and habits 
in respect to the use of money ; and it would be so — for the 
principles involved seem to be very plain and simple — were 
it not that the qualities which it requires in the parent are 
just those which are most rare. Deliberateness in forming 
the plan, calmness and quietness in proposing it, inflexible 



280 GENTLE MEASURES. 

but mild and gentle firmness in carrying it out, perfect hon 
esty in allowing the children to exercise the power and rC' 
sponsibility promised them, and an indulgent spirit in rela- 
tion to the faults and errors into which they fall in the ex- 
ercise of it — these and other such qualities are not very 
easily found. To make an arrangement with a child that 
he is to receive a certain sum every Saturday, and then af- 
ter two or three weeks to forget it, and when the boy 
comes to call for it, to say, petulantly, " Oh, don't come to 
bother me about that now — I am busy ; and besides, I have 
not got the money now;" or, when a boy has spent all his 
allowance on the first two or three days of the week, and 
comes to beg importunately for more, to say, " It was very 
wrong in you to spend all your money at once, and I have a 
great mind not to give you any more. I will, however, do 
it just this time, but I shall not again, you may depend;" 
or, to borrow money in some sudden emergency out of the 
fund which a child has accumulated for a special purpose, 
and then to forget or neglect to repay it — to manage loose- 
ly and capriciously in any such ways as these will be sure to 
make the attempt a total failure ; that is to say, such man- 
agement will be sure to be a failure in respect to teaching 
the boy to act on right principles in the management of 
money, and training him to habits of exactness and faith- 
fulness in the fulfillment of his obligations. But in making 
him a thoughtless, wasteful, teasing, and selfish boy while 
he remains a boy, and fixing him, when he comes to man- 
hood, in the class of those who are utterly untrustworthy, 
faithless in the performance of their promises, and wholly 
unscrupulous in respect to the means by which they obtain 
money, it may very probably turn out to be a splendid sue* 
cess. 



CORPORAL PUNISHMENT, 281 



CHAPTER XXI. 

CORPORAL PUNISHMENT. 

It might, perhaps, be thought that, in a book which pro. 
f esses to show how an efficient government can be estab- 
lished and maintained by gentle measures, the subject of 
corporal punishment could have no place. It seems impor- 
tant, however, that there should be here introduced a brief 
though distinct presentation of the Ught in which, in a 
philosophical point of view, this instrumentality is to be re- 
garded. 

The Teachings of Scripture. 
The resort to corporal punishment in the training of chil- 
dren seems to be spoken of in many passages contained in 
the Scriptures as of fundamental necessity. But there can 
be no doubt that the word rod, as used in those passages, 
is used simply as the emblem of parental authority. This 
is in accordance with the ordinary custom of Hebrew writ- 
ers in those days, and with the idiom of their language, by 
which a single visible or tangible object was employed as 
the representative or expression of a general idea — as, for 
example, the sword is used as the emblem of magisterial 
authority, and the sun and the rain, which are spoken of as 
being sent with their genial and fertihzing power upon the 
evil and the good, denote not specially and exclusively those 
agencies, but all the beneficent mfluences of nature which 
they are employed to represent. The injunctions, there- 
fore, of Solomon in respect to the use of the rod are un- 
doubtedly to be understood as simply enjoining upon par- 



283 GENTLE MEASURES. 

ents the necessity of bringing up theii' children in complete 
subjection to their authority. No one can imagine that he 
could wish the rod to be used wlien complete subjection 
to the parental authority could be secured by more gentle 
means. And how this is to be done it is the object pre- 
cisely of this book to show. 

In this sense, therefore — and it is undoubtedly the true 
sense — namely, that children must be governed by the au- 
thority of the parent, the passages in question express a 
great and most essential truth. It is sometimes said that 
children must be governed by reason, and this is true, but 
it is the reason of their parents, and not their own which 
must hold the control. If children were endowed with the 
capacity of seeing what is best for them, and with sufficient 
self-control to pursue what is best against the counter-influ- 
ences of their animal instincts and propensities, there would 
be no necessity that the period of subjection to parental au- 
thority should be extended over so many years. But so 
long as their powers are yet too immature to be safely re- 
lied upon, they must, of necessity, be subject to the parental 
will ; and the sooner and the more perfectly they are made 
to understand this, and to yield a willing submission to the 
necessity, the better it will be, not only for their parents, 
but also for themselves. 

The parental authority must, therefore, be established — 
by gentle means, if possible — but it must by all means be 
established, and be firmly maintained. If you can not gov- 
ern your child without corporal punishment, it is better to 
resort to it than not to govern him at all. Taking a wide 
view of the field, I think there may be several cases in which 
a resort to the infliction of physical pain as the only available 
means of establishing authority may be the only alterna- 
tive. There are three cases of this kind that are to be spe- 
cially considered. 



CORPORAL PUNISHMENT. 285 

Possible Cases in uihich it is the only Alternative. — 

Savages. 

' 1. In savage or half-civilized life, and even, perhaps, in so 
rude a state of society as must have existed in some parts 
of Judea when the Proverbs of Solomon were written, it is 
conceivable that many jDarents, owing to their own io-no- 
rance, and low animal condition, would have no other means 
at their command for establishing their authority over their 
children than scoldings and blows. It must be so among 
savages. And it is certainly better, if the mother knows 
no other way of inducing her I>oy to keep within her sight, 
that she should whip him when he runs away, than that he 
should be bitten by serj)ents or devoured by bears. She 
must establish her authority in some way, and if this is the 
best that she is capable of pursuing, she must use it. 

Teachers whose Tasks surpass their Skill. 
2. A teacher, in entering upon the charge of a large 
school of boys made unruly by previous mismanagement, 
may, perhaps, possibly find himself unable to establish sub- 
mission to his authority without this resource. It is true 
that if it is so, it is due, in a certain sense, to want of skill 
on the teacher's part ; for there are men, and women too, 
who will take any company of boys that you can give them, 
and, by a certain skill, or tact, or knowledge of human na- 
ture, or other qualities which seem sometimes to other per- 
sons almost magical, will have them all completely under 
subjection in a week, and that without violence, without 
scolding, almost without even a frown. The time may, per- 
haps, come when every teacher, to be considered qualified 
for his work, must possess this skill. Indeed, the world is 
evidently making great and rapid progress in this direc- 
tion. The methods of instruction and the modes by which 



286 GENTLE MEASURES. 

the teacher gains and holds his influence over his pupils 
have been wonderfully improved in recent times, so that 
where there was one teacher, fifty years ago, who was real- 
ly beloved by his pupils, we have fifty now. In Dr. John- 
son's time, which was about a hundred and fifty years ago, 
it would seem that there was no other mode but that of vi- 
olent coercion recognized as worthy to be relied upon in 
imparting instruction, for he said that he knew of no way 
by which Latin could be taught to boys in his day but 
" by having it flogged into them." 

From such a state of things to that which prevails at the 
present day there has been an astonishing change. And 
now, whether a teacher is able to manage an average school 
of boys without physical force is simply a question of tact, 
knowledge of the right principles, and skill in applying 
them on his part. It is, perhaps, yet too soon to expect 
that all teachers can possess, or can acquire, these qualifica- 
tions to such a degree as to make it safe to forbid the in- 
fliction of bodily pain in any case, but the time for it is rap- 
idly approaching, and in some parts of the country it has, 
perhaps, already arrived. Until that time comes, every 
teacher who finds himsfelf under the necessity of beating a 
boy's body in order to attain certain moral or intellectual 
ends ought to understand that the reason is the incom- 
pleteness of his understanding and skill in dealing directly 
with his mind ; though for this incompleteness he may not 
himself be personally at all to blame. 

Children spoiled by Neglect and Mismanagement. 

3. I am even willing to admit that one or more boys 
in a family may reach such a condition of rudeness and 
insubordination, in consequence of neglect or mismanage- 
ment on jthe part of their parents in their early years, and 
the present clumsiness and incapacity of the father in deal- 



CORPORAL PUmSHMENT. 287 

ing with the susceptibilities and impulses of the human 
soul, that the question will lie between keeping them with- 
in some kind of subordination by bodily punishment or 
not controlling them at all. If a father has been so en- 
grossed in his business that he has neglected his children, 
has never established any common bond of sympathy be- 
tween himself and them, has taken no interest in their en- 
joyments, nor brought them by moral means to an habitual 
subjection to his will; and if their mother is a weak, ir- 
resolute woman, occupying herself with the pursuits and 
pleasures of fashionable society, and leaving her children 
to the management of servants, the children will, of course, 
in general, grow up exacting, turbulent, and ungoverna- 
ble; and when, with advancing maturity, their increasing 
strength and vigor makes this turbulence and disorder in- 
tolerable in the house, and there is, as of course there usu- 
ally Avill be in such a case, no proper knowledge and skill 
in the management of the young on the part of either par- 
ent to remedy the evil by gentle measures, the only alter- 
native in many cases may be either a resort to violent 
punishment, or the sending away of the unmanageable sub- 
jects to school. The latter part of the alternative is the 
best, and, fortunately, it is the one generally adopted. But 
where it can not be adopted, it is certainly better that the 
boys should be governed by the rod than to grow up un- 
der no government at all. 

Gentle Measures effectual lohere Bightfully and Faith- 
fully employed. 

However it may be with respect to the exceptional cases 
above enumerated, and perhaps some others, there can, I 
think, be no doubt that parents who should train their 
children from the beginning on the principles explained in 
this volume, and upon others analogous to them, would 



28S GENTLE MEASURES. 

never, in any case, have to strike a blow. They would ac^ 
complish the end enjoined by the precepts of Solomon, 
namely, the complete subjection of their children to their 
authority, by improved methods not known in his day, or, 
at least, not so fully developed that they could then be re- 
lied upon. They who imagine that parents are bound to 
use the rod as the instrumentality, because the Scriptures 
speak of the rod as the means of establishing parental au- 
thority best known in those days, instead of employing the 
more effective methods which the progress of improvement 
has developed and made available at the present day, ought, 
in order to be consistent, to insist on the retention of the 
harp in religious worship, because David enjoins it upon 
believers to " praise the Lord with harp :" to " sing unto 
him with psaltery, and an instrument of ten strings." The 
truth is, that what we are to look at in such injunctions is 
the end that is to be attained, which is, in this last case, 
the impressive and reverential exaltation of Almighty God 
in our minds by the acts of public worship ; and if, with 
the improvements in musical instruments which have been 
made in modern times, we can do this more satisfactorily 
by employing in the place of a psaltery or a harp of ten 
strings an organ of ten or a hundred stops, we are bound 
to make the substitution. In a word, we must look at the 
end and not at the means, remembering that in questions 
of Scripture interpretation the "letter killeth, the spirit 
maketh alive." 

Protracted Contests with Ohstinacy. 
It seems to me, though I am aware that many excellent 
persons think differently, that it is never wise for the par- 
ent to allow himself to be drawn into a contest with a child 
in attempting to compel him to do something that from ill- 
temper or obstinacy he refuses to do. If the attempt is 



CORPORAL PUNISHMENT. 289 

successful, and the child yields under a moderate severity 
of coercion, it is all very well. But there is something 
mysterious and unaccountable in the strength of the ol> 
stinacy sometimes manifested in such cases, and the de- 
gree of endurance which it will often inspire, even in chil- 
dren of the most tender age. We observe the same inex- 
plicable fixedness sometimes in the lower animals — in the 
horse, for example ; which is the more unaccountable from 
the fact that we can not suppose, in his case, that peculiar 
combination of intelligence and ill-temper which we gener- 
ally consider the sustaining power of the protracted obsti- 
nacy on the part of the child. The degree of persistence 
which is manifested by children in contests of this kind is 
something wonderful, and can not easily be explained by 
any of the ordinary theories in respect to the influence of 
motives on the human mind. A state of cerebral excite- 
ment and exaltation is not unfrequently produced which 
seems akin to insanity, and instances have been known in 
which a child has suffered itself to be beaten to death 
rather than yield obedience to a very simple command. 
And in vast numbers of instances, the parent, after a pro- 
tracted contest, gives up in despair, and is compelled to in- 
vent some plausible pretext for bringing it to an end. 

Indeed, when we reflect upon the subject, we see what a 
diflicult task we undertake in such contests — it being noth- 
ing less than that oi forcing the formation of a volition in a 
human mind. We can easily control the bodily movements 
and actions of another person by means of an external co- 
ercion that we can apply, and we have various indirect 
means of inducing volitions; but in these contests we 
seem to come up squarely to the work of attempting, by 
outward force, to compel \\\q f miming of a volition in the 
mind ; and it is not surprising that this should, at least 
sometimes, prove a very difficult undertaking. 

N 



390 GENTLE MEASURES. 

JVo N^ecessity for these Contests. 

There seems to be no necessity that a parent or teacher 
should ever become involved in struggles of this kind in 
maintaining his authority. The way to avoid them, as it 
seems to me, is, when a child refuses out of obstinacy to 
do what is required of him, to impose the proper punish- 
ment or penalty for the refusal, and let that close the trans- 
action. Do not attempt to enforce his compliance by con- 
tinuing the punishment until he yields. A child, for ex- 
ample, going out to play, wishes for his blue cap. His 
mother chooses that he shall wear his gray one. She hangs 
the blue cap up in its place, and gives him the gray one. 
He declares that he will not wear it, and throws it down 
upon the floor. The temptation now is for the mother, in- 
dignant, to punish him, and then to order him to take up 
the cap which he had thrown down, and to feel that it is 
her duty, in case he refuses, to persist in the punishment 
until she conquers his will, and compels him to take it up 
and put it upon his head. 

But instead of this, a safer and a better course, it seems 
to me, is to avoid a contest altogether by considering the 
offense complete, and the transaction on his part finished by 
the single act of rebellion against her authority. She may 
take the cap up from the floor herself and put it in its 
place, and then simply consider what punishment is proper 
for the wrong already done. Perhaps she forbids the boy 
to go out at all. Perhaps she reserves the punishment, and 
sends him to bed an hour earlier that night. The age of 
the boy, or some other circumstances connected with the 
case, may be such as to demand a severer treatment still. 
At any rate, she limits the transaction to the single act of 
disobedience and rebellion already committed, without giv- 
ing an opportunity for a repetition of it by renewing the 



CORPORAL PUNISHMENT. 291 

command, and inflicts for it the proper punishment, and 
that is the end of the affair. 

And so a boy in reciting a lesson will not repeat certain 
words after his mother. She enters into no controversy 
with him, but shuts the book and puts it away. He, know- 
ing his mother's usual mode of management in such cases, 
and being sure that some penalty, privation, or punishment 
will sooner or later follow, relents, and tells his mother that 
he will say the words if she will try him again. 

" No, my son," she should reply, " the opportunity is past. 
You should have done your duty at the right time. You 
have disobeyed me, and I must take time to consider what 
to do." 

If, at the proper time, in such a case, when all the excite- 
ment of the affair is over, a penalty or punishment appor- 
tioned to the fault, or some other appropriate measures in 
relation to it, are certain to come, and if this method is al- 
ways pursued in a calm and quiet manner but with inflexi- 
ble firmness in act, the spirit of rebellion will be much more 
effectually subdued than by any protracted struggles at the 
time, though ending in victory however complete. 

But all this is a digression, though it seemed proper to 
allude to the subject of these contests here, since it is on 
these occasions, perhaps, that parents are most frequently 
led, or, as they think, irresistibly impelled, to the infliction 
of bodily punishments as the last resort, when they would, 
in general, be strongly inclined to avoid them. 

The Infliction of Pain sometimes the speediest Remedy. 

There are, moreover, some cases, perhaps, in the ordinary 
exigencies of domestic life, as the world goes, when some 
personal infliction is the shortest way of disposing of a case 
of discipline, and may appear, for the time being, to be the 
most effectual. A slap is very quickly given, and a mother 



292 GENTLE MEASURES. 

may often think that she has not time for a more gentle 
mode of managing the case, even though she may admit 
that if she had the time at her command the gentle mode 
would be the best. And it is, indeed, doubtless true that 
the principles of management advocated in this work are 
such as require that the parents should devote some time 
and attention, and, still more essentially, some heart to the 
work ; and they who do not consider the welfare and hap- 
piness of their children in future life, and their own happi- 
ness in connection with them as they advance towards their 
declining years, as of sufficient importance to call for the 
bestowment of this time and attention, will doubtless often 
resort to more summary methods in their discipline than 
those here recommended. 

The Sting that it leaves behind. 

Indeed, the great objection, after all, to the occasional re- 
sort to the infliction of bodily pain in extreme cases is, as 
it seems to me, the sting which it leaves behind ; not that 
which it leaves in the heart of the child who may suffer it 
— for that soon passes away — but in the heart of the parent 
who inflicts it. The one is, or may be, very evanescent ; the 
other may very long remain ; and what is worse, the an- 
guish of it may be revived and made very poignant in fu- 
ture years. 

This consideration makes it specially imperative on every 
parent never, for any cause, to inflict punishment by vio- 
lence when himself under the influence of any irritation or 
anger awakened by the offense. For though the anger 
which the fault of the child naturally awakens in you 
carries you through the act of punishing well enough, it 
soon afterwards passes away, while the memory of it re- 
mains, and in after years, like any other sin, it may come 
back to exact a painful retribution. When the little loved 



CORPORAL PUNISHMENT. 293 

one who now puts you out of patience with her heedless- 
ness, her inconsiderateness, and, perhaps, by worse faults 
and failings — all, however, faults which may very possibly, 
in part or in whole, be the result of the immature and un- 
developed condition of her mental or bodily powers faUs 

sick and dies, and you follow her as she is borne away, and 
with a bursting heart see her laid in her little grave, it will 
be a great comfort to you then to reflect that you did all in 
your power, by means of the gentlest measures at your 
command, to train her to truth and duty, that you never 
lost patience with her, and that she never felt from your 
hand any thing but gentle assistance or a loving caress. 

And your boy — now so ardent and impulsive, and often, 
perhaps, noisy, troublesome, and rude, from the exuberant 
action of his growing powers — when these powers shall 
have received their full development, and he has passed 
from your control to his place in the world as a man, and 
he comes back from time to time to the maternal home in 
grateful remembrance of his obligations to his mother, 
bringing with him tokens of his affection and love, you will 
think with pain of the occasions w^hen you subjected him 
to the torture of the rod under the impulse of irritation or 
anger, or to accomplish the ends of discipline which might 
have been attained in other ways. Time, as you then look 
back over the long interval of years which have elapsed, 
will greatly soften the recollection of the fault, but it will 
greatly aggravate that of the pain which was made the ret- 
ribution of it. You will say to yourself, it is true, I did it 
for the best. If I had not done it, my son would perhai>s 
not be what he is. He, if he remembers the transaction, 
will doubtless say so too ; but there will be none the less 
for both a certain sting in the recollection, and you will 
wish that the same end could have been accomplished by 
gentler means. 



394 GENTLE MEASURES. 

The substance of it is that children must, at all events, 
be governed. The proper authority over them must he 
maintained ; but it is a great deal better to secure this end 
by gentle measures, if the parent have or can acquire the 
skill to employ them. 



GRATITUDE IN GHILBREN. 295 



CHAPTER XXII. 

GRATITUDE IN CHILDREN. 

Mothers are very often pained at what seems to them 
the ingratitude of their children. They long, above all 
things, for their love. They do every thing in their power 
— I mean, of course, that some mothers do — to win it. 
They make every sacrifice, and give every possible evi- 
dence of affection ; but they seem to fail entirely of bring- 
ing out any of those evidences of gratitude and affection 
in return which, if they could only witness them, would fill 
their hearts with gladness and joy. But the only feeling 
which their children manifest towards them seems to be 
a selfish one. They come to them when in trouble, they 
even fly to them eagerly when in danger, and they con- 
sider their parents the chief resource for procuring nearly 
all their means of gratification. But they think little, as 
it often seems, of the mother's comfort and enjoyment in 
return, and seldom or never do any thing voluntarily to 
give her pleasure. 

It would be a great exaggeration to say that this is al- 
ways the feeling of the mother in respect to her children. 
I only mean that this is sometimes, and I might probably 
say very often, the case. 

Two Forms of Love. 

Now there are two distinct forms which the feeling of 
love may assume in the mature mind, both of which are 
gratifying to the object of it, though they are very differ- 
ent, and indeed in some sense exactly the opposite of each 



296 GENTLE MEASURES. 

Other. There is the receming and the bestowing love. It 
is true that the two forms are often conjoined, or rather 
they often exist in intimate combination with each other ; 
but in their nature they are essentially distinct. A young 
lady, for example, may feel a strong attachment for the 
gentleman to whom she is engaged — or a wife for her hus- 
band — in the sense of liking to receive kindness and atten- 
tion from him more than from any other man. She may 
be specially pleased when he invites her to ride with him, 
or makes her presents, or shows in any way that he thinks 
of her and seeks her happiness — more so than she would 
be to receive the same attentions from any other person. 
This is love. It may be very genuine love; but it is love 
in the form of taking special pleasure in the kindness and 
favor bestowed by the object of it. Yet it is none the 
less true, as most persons have had occasion to learn from 
their own experience, that this kind of love may be very 
strong without being accompanied by any corresponding 
desire on the part of the person manifesting it to make 
sacrifices of her own ease and comfort in order to give 
happiness to the object of her love in return. 

In the same manner a gentleman may feel a strong sen- 
timent of love for a lady, which shall take the form of en- 
joying her society, of being happy when he is near her, 
and greatly pleased at her making sacrifices for his sake, 
or manifesting in any way a strong attachment for him. 
There may be also united with this the other form of love — 
namely, that which would lead him to deny himself and 
make sacrifices for her. But the two, though they may 
often — perhaps generally — exist together, are in their na- 
ture so essentially different that they may be entirely sep- 
arated, and we may have one in its full strength while there 
is very little of the other. You may love a person in the 
sense of taking greater pleasure in receiving attentions and 



GRATITUDE! IN CHILDREN. 2{n 

favors from him than from all the world beside, while yet 
you seldom think of making efforts to promote his comfort 
and happiness in any thing in which you are not yourself 
personally concerned. On the other hand, you may love 
him with the kind of affection which renders it the great- 
est pleasure of your life to make sacrifices and endure self- 
denial to promote his welfare in any way. 

In some cases these two forms are in fact entirely sep- 
arated, and one or the other can exist entirely distinct from 
the other — as in the case of the kind feehnors of a irood 
man towards the poor and miserable. It is quite possi- 
ble to feel a very strong interest in such objects, and to 
be willing to put ourselves to considerable inconvenience 
to make them comfortable and happy, and to take great 
pleasure in learning that our efforts have been effectual, 
without feeling any love for them at all in the other form 
— that is, any desire to have them with us, to receive atten- 
tions and kindness from them, and to enjoy their society. 

On the other hand, in the love of a young child for his 
mother the case is reversed. The love of the child con- 
sists chiefly in liking to be with his mother, in going to 
her rather than to any one else for relief from pain or for 
comfort in sorrow, and is accompanied with very few and 
very faint desires to make efforts, or to submit to priva- 
tions, or to make sacrifices, for the promotion of her good. 

Order of their Development. 

N'ow the qualities and characteristics of the soul on 
which the capacity for these two forms of love depend 
seem to be very different, and they advance m develop- 
ment and come to maturity at different periods of hfe; so 
that the mother, in feeling dejected and sad because she 
can not awaken in the mind of her child the gratitude and 
the consideration for her comfort and happiness which 

N2 



'^m GENTLE MEASURES. 

she desires, is simply looking for a certain kind of fruit 
at the wrong time. You have one of the forms of love 
for you on the part of the child now while he is young. 
In due time, when he arrives at maturity, if you will wait 
patiently, you will assuredly have the other. Now he runs 
to you in every emergency. He asks you for every thing 
that he wants. He can find comfort nowhere else but in 
your arms, when he is in distress or in suffering from pain, 
disappointment, or sorrow. But he will not make any ef- 
fort to be still when you are sick, or to avoid interrupting 
you when you are busy; and insists, perhaps, on your car- 
rying him when he is tired, without seeming to think or 
care whether you may not be tired too. But in due time 
all this will be changed. Twenty years hence he will con- 
ceal all his troubles from you instead of coming with them 
to you for comfort. He will be off in the world engaged 
in his pursuits, no longer bound closely to your side. But 
he will think all the time of your comfort and happiness. 
He will bring you presents, and pay you innumerable at- 
tentions to cheer your heart in your declining years. He 
will not run to you when he has hurt himself ; but if any 
thing happens to you, he will leave every thing to hasten 
to your relief, and bring with him all the comforts and 
means of enjoyment for you that his resources can com- 
mand. The time will thus come when you will have his 
love to your heart's content, in the second form. You 
must be satisfied, while he is so young, with the first form 
of it, which is all that his powers and faculties in their 
present stage are capable of developing. 

The truth of the case seems to be that the faculties of 
the human mind — or I should perhaps rather say, the sus- 
aeptibilities of the soul — like the instincts of animals, are 
developed in the order in which they are required for the 
good of the subject of them. 



QBATITUDE IN CHILDREN. 299 

Indeed, it is very interesting and curious to observe 
bow striking the analogy in the order of development, in 
respect to the nature of the bond of attachment which 
binds the offspring to the parent, runs through all those 
ranks of the animal creation in which the young for a time 
depend upon the mother for food or for protection. The 
chickens in any moment of alarm run to the hen ; and the 
lamb, the calf, and the colt to their respective mothers ; 
but none of them would feel the least inclination to come 
to the rescue of the parent if the parent was in danger. 
With the mother herself it is exactly the reverse. Her 
jieart — if we can speak of the seat of the maternal affec- 
tions of such creatures as a heart — is filled with desires to 
bestow good upon her offspring, without a desire, or even 
a thought, of receiving any good from them in return. 

There is this difference, however, between the race of 
man and those of the inferior animals— namely, that in his 
case the instinct, or at least a natural desire which is in 
some respects analogous to an instinct, prompting him to 
repay to his parents the benefits which he received from 
them in youth, comes in due time ; while in that of the 
lower animals it seems never to come at all. The little 
birds, after opening their mouths so wide every time the 
mother comes to the nest during all the weeks while their 
wings are growing, fly away when they are grown, with- 
out the least care or concern for the anxiety and distress 
of the mother occasioned by their imprudent flights ; and 
once away and free, never come back, so far as we know, 
to make any return to their mother for watching over 
them, sheltering them with her body, and working so in- 
defatigably to provide them with food during the helpless 
period of their infancy— and still less to seek and protect 
and feed her in her old age. But the boy, reckless as he 
sometimes seems in his boyhood, insensible apparently to 



300 GENTLE MEASURES. 

his obligations to bis mother, and little mindful of her 
wisbes or of her feelings — his affection for her showing 
itself mainly in bis readiness to go to her with all bis 
wants, and in all his troubles and sorrows — will begin, 
when be has arrived at maturity and no longer needs her 
aid, to remember with gratitude the past aid that she has 
rendered him. The current of affection in his heart will 
turn and flow the other way. Instead of w^ishing to re- 
ceive, be will now only wish to give. If she is in want, he 
will do all he can to supply her. If she is in sorrow, he 
will be happy if he can do any thing to comfort her. He 
will send her memorials of his gratitude, and objects of 
comfort and embellishment for her home, and will watch 
with solicitude and sincere affection over her declining 
years. 

And all this change, if not the result of a new instinct 
which reaches its development only when the period of ma- 
turity arrives, is the unfolding of a sentiment of the heart 
belonging essentially to the nature of the subject of it as 
man. It is true that this capacity may, under certain cir- 
cumstances, be very feebly developed. In some cases, in- 
deed, it w^ould seem that it w^as scarcely developed at all ; 
but there is a provision for it in the nature of man, while 
there is no provision for it at all in the sentient principles 
of the lower animals. 

Advancing the Development of the Sentiment of Grati- 
tude, 

Kow, although parents must not be impatient at the slow 
appearance of this feeling in their children, and must not be 
troubled in its not appearing before its time, they can do 
much by proper efforts to cultivate its growth, and give it 
an earlier and a more powerful influence over them than it 
WQuld otherwise manifest. The mode of doing this is the 



GRATITUDE IN CHILDREN. 301 

same as in all other cases of the cultivation of moral senti- 
ments in children, and that is by the influence over them of 
sympathy with those they love. Just as the way to culti- 
vate in the minds of children a feeling of pity for those 
who are in distress is not to preach it as a duty, but to 
make them love you, and then show such pity yourself; 
and the way to make them angry and revengeful in char- 
acter — if we can conceive of your being actuated by so un- 
natural a desire — would be often to express violent resent- 
ment yourself, with scowling looks and fierce denunciations 
against those who have offended you ; so, to awaken them 
to sentiments of gratitude for the favors they receive, you 
must gently lead them to sympathize with you in the grati- 
tude which you feel for the favors that you receive. 

When a child shows some special unwilUngness to com- 
ply with her mother's desires, her mother may address to 
her a kind but direct and plain expostulation on the obliga- 
tions of children to their parents, and the duty incumbent 
on them of being grateful for their kindness, and to be will- 
ing to do what they can in return. Such an address would 
probably do no good at all. The child would receive it sim- 
ply as a scolding, no matter how mildly and gently the re- 
proof might be expressed, and would shut her heart against 
it. It is something which she must stand still and endure, 
and that is all. 

But let the mother say the same things precisely when 
the child has shown a willingness to make some little sacri- 
fice to aid or to gratify her mother, so that the sentiment 
expressed may enter her mind in the form of approval and 
not of condemnation, and the effect will be very different. 
The sentiments will, at any rate, now not be rejected from 
the mind, but the way will be open for them to enter, and 
the conversation will have a good effect, so far as didactic 
teaching can have effect in such a case. 



803 GENTLE MEASURES. 

But now to bring in the element of sympathy as a means 
of reaching and influencing the mind of the child ; The 
mother, we will suppose, standing at the door some morn- 
ing before breakfast in spring, with her little daughter, sev- 
en or eight years old, by her side, hears a bird singing on a 
tree near by. She points to the tree, and says, in a half- 
whisper, " Hark !" 

When the sound ceases, she looks to the child with an 
expression of pleasure upon her countenance, and says, 

" Suppose we give that bird some crumbs because he 
has been singing us such a pretty song." 

" Well !" says the child. 

" Would you ?" asks the mother. 

" Yes, mother, I should like to give him some very much. 
I>o you suppose he sang the song for us?" 

"I don't know that he did," replies the mother. "We 
don't know exactly what the birds mean by all their sing- 
ing. They take some pleasure in seeing us, I think, or else 
they would not come so much around our house; and I 
don't know but that this bird's song may come from some 
kind of joy or gladness he felt in seeing us come to the 
door. At any rate, it will be a pleasure to us to give him 
some crumbs to pay him for his song." 

The child will think so too, and will run off joyfully to 
bring a piece of bread to form crumbs to be scattered upon 
the path. 

And the whole transaction will have the effect of awak- 
ening and cherishing the sentiment of gratitude in her 
heart. The effect will not be great, it is true, but it will 
be of the right kind. It will be a drop of water upon the 
unfolding cotyledons of a seed just peeping up out of the 
ground, which will percolate below after you have gone 
away^ and give the little roots a new impulse of growth. 
For when you have left the child seated upon the door-step, 



GRATITUDE IN CHILDREN. 303 

occupied in throwing out the crumbs to the bird, her heart 
will be occupied with the thoughts you have put into it 
and the sentiment of gratitude for kindness received will 
commence its course of development, if it had not com- 
menced it before. 

The Case of older Children. 
Of course the employment of such an occasion as this of 
the singing of a little bird and such a conversation in re- 
spect to it for cultivating the sentiment of gratitude in the 
heart, is adapted only to the case of quite a young child. 
For older children, while the principle is the same, the cir- 
cumstances and the manner of treating the case must be 
adapted to a maturer age. Robert, for example — twelve 
years of age — had been sick, and during his convalescence 
his sister Mary, two years older than himself, had been 
very assiduous in her attendance upon him. She had wait- 
ed upon him at his meals, and brought him books and play- 
things, from time to time, to amuse him. After he had fully 
recovered his health, he was sitting in the garden, one sun- 
ny morning in the spring, with his mother, and she said, 
" How kind Mary was to you while you were sick !" 
"Yes," said Robert, "she was very kind indeed." 
"If you w^ould like to do something for her in return," 
continued his mother, "I'll tell you what would be a good 
plan." 

Robert, who, perhaps, without this conversation would 
not have thought particularly of making any return, said 
he should like to do somethingr for her verv much. 

"Then," said his mother, "you might make her a gar- 
den. I can mark off a place for a bed for her large enough 
to hold a number of kinds of flowers, and then you can dig 
it up, and rake it over, and lay it off into little beds, and 
sow the seeds. I'll buy the seeds for you. I should like 



304 GENTLE MEASURES. 

to do something towards making the garden for her, for 
she helped me a great deal, as well as yon, in the care she 
took of you." 

" Well," said Robert, " I'll do it." 

" You are well and strong now, so you can do it pretty 
easily," added the mother ; " but still, unless you would Hk© 
to do it yourself for her sake, I can get the man to do it. 
But if you would like to do it yourself, I think it would 
please her very much as an expression of your gratitude 
and love for her," 

" Yes," said Robert, " I should a great deal rather do it 
myself, and I will begin this very day." 

And yet, if his mother had not made the suggestion, he 
would probably not have thought of making any such re- 
turn, or even any return at all, for his sister's devoted kind- 
ness to him when he was sick. In other words, the senti- 
ment of gratitude was in his heart, or, rather, the capacity 
for it was there, but it needed a little fostering care to 
bring it out into action. 2\nd the thing to be observed is, 
that by this fostering care it was not only brought out at 
the time, but, by being thus brought out and drawn into 
action, it was strengthened and made to grow, so as to be 
ready to come out itself without being called, on the next 
occasion. It was like a little plant just coming out of the 
ground under influences not altogether favorable. It needs 
a little help and encouragement ; and the aid that is given 
by a few drops of water at the right time will bring it for- 
ward and help it to attain soon such a degree of strength 
and vigor as will make it independent of all external aid. 

But there must be consideration, tact, a proper regard 
to circumstances, and, above all, there must be no secret 
and selfish ends concealed, on the part of the mother in 
such cases. You may deluge and destroy your little plant 
by throwing on the water roughly or rudely; or, in the 



GRATITUDE IN CHILDREN. 305 

case of a boy upon whose raind you seem to be endeavor- 
ing to produce some moral result, you may really have in 
view some object of your own — your interest in the moral 
result being only a pretense. 

For instance, Egbert, under circumstances similar to 
those recited above — in respect to the sickness of the boy, 
and the kind attentions of his sister — came to his mother 
one afternoon for permission to go a-fishing with some 
other boys who had called for him. He was full of excite- 
ment and enthusiasm at the idea. But his mother was not 
willing to allow him to go. The weather was lowering. 
She thought that he had not yet fully recovered his health ; 
and- she was afraid of other dangers. Instead of saying 
calmly, after a moment's reflection, to show that her answer 
was a deliberate one, that he could not go, and then quiet- 
ly and firmly, but without assigning any reasons, adhering 
to her decision — a course which, though it could not have 
saved the boy from emotions of disappointment, would be 
the best for making those feelings as light and as brief in 
duration as possible — began to argue the case thus : 

" Oh no, Egbert, I would not go a-fishing this afternoon, 
if 1 were you. I think it is going to rain. Besides, it is a 
nice cool day to work in the garden, and Lucy would like 
to have her garden made very much. You know that she 
was very kind to you when you were sick — how many 
things she did for you ; and preparing her garden for her 
would be such a nice way of making her a return. I am 
sure you would not wish to show yourself ungrateful for 
so much kindness." 

Then follows a discussion of some minutes, in which 
Egbert, in a fretful and teasing tone, persists in urging his 
desire to go a-fishing. He can make the garden, he says, 
some other day. His mother finally yields, though with 
great unwillingness, doing all she can to extract all gra- 



306 GENTLE MEASURES. 

ciousness and sweetness from her consent, and to spoil 
the pleasure of the excursion to the boy, by saying as he 
goes away, that she is sure he ought not to go, and that 
she shall be uneasy about him all the time that he is gone. 

Now it is plain that such management as this, though 
it takes ostensibly the form of a plea on the part of the 
mother in favor of a sentiment of gratitude in the heart 
of the boy, can have no effect in cherishing and bringing 
forward into life any such sentiment, even if it should be 
already existent there in a nascent state; but can only 
tend to make the object of it more selfish and heartless 
than ever. 

Thus the art of cultivating the sentiment of gratitude, 
as is the case in all other departments of moral training, 
can not be taught by definite lessons or learned by rote. 
It demands tact and skill, and, above all, an honest and 
guileless sincerity. The mother must really look to, and 
aim for the actual moral effect in the heart of the child, 
and not merely make formal efforts ostensibly for this end, 
but really to accomplish some temporary object of her 
own. Children easily see through all covert intentions of 
any kind. They sometimes play the hypocrite themselves, 
but they are always great detectors of hypocrisy in others. 

But gentle and cautious efforts of the right kind — such 
as require no high attainments on the part of the mother, 
but only the right spirit — will in time work wonderful ef- 
fects ; and the mother who perseveres in them, and who 
does not expect the fruits too soon, will watch with great 
interest for the time to arrive when her boy will sponta- 
neously, from the promptings of his own heart, take some 
real trouble, or submit to some real privation or self-de- 
nial, to give pleasure to her. She will then enjoy the 
double gratification, first, of receiving the pleasure, what- 
ever it may be, that her boy has procured for her, and 



GRATITUDE IN CEILDREK 307 

also the joy of finding that the tender plant wliich she lias 
watched and watered so long, and which for a time seemed 
so frail that she almost despaired of its ever coming to 
any good., is really advanced to the stage of beginning to 
bear fruit, and giving her an earnest of the abundant fruits 
which she may confidently expect from it in future years. 



308 QENTLE MEASURES. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

RELIGIOUS TEAINING. 

It has been my aim in this vohime to avoid, as far as 
possible, all topics involving controversy, and only to pre- 
sent such truths, and to elucidate such principles, as can be 
easily made to commend themselves to the good sense and 
the favorable appreciation of all the classes of minds likely 
to be found among the readers of the work. There are 
certain very important aspects of the religious question 
which may be presented, I think, without any serious de- 
viation from this policy. 

In what True Piety consists. 

Indeed, I think there is far more real than seeming 
agreement among parents in respect to this subject, or 
rathei- a large portion of the apparent difference consists 
in different modes of expressing in words thoughts and 
conceptions connected with spiritual things, which from 
their very nature can not any of them be adequately ex- 
pressed in language at all ; and thus it happens that what 
are substantially the same ideas are customarily clothed by 
different classes of persons in very different phraseology, 
while, on the other hand, the same set of phrases actually 
represent in different minds very different sets of ideas. 

For instance, there is perhaps universal agreement in the 
idea that some kind of change — a change, too, of a very im- 
portant character — is implied in the implanting or devel- 
oping of the spirit of piety in the heart of a child. There 
is also universal agreement in the fact — often very emphat- 



RELIGIOUS TRAINING. 309 

ically asserted in the New Testament— that the essential 
principles in which true piety consists are those of entire 
submission in all things to the will of God, and cordial 
kind feeling towards every man. There is endless dis- 
agreement, and much earnest contention among different 
denominations of Christians, in respect to the means by 
which the implanting of these principles is to be secured, 
and to the modes in which, when implanted, they will man- 
ifest themselves ; but there is not, so far as would appear, 
any dissent whatever anywhere from the opinion that the 
end to be aimed at is the implanting of these principles — 
that is, that it consists in bringing the heart to a state of 
complete and cordial submission to the authority and to 
the will of God, and to a sincere regard for the welfare 
and happiness of every human being. 

A Questio7i of Words. 

There seems, at first view, to be a special difference of 
opinion in respect to the nature of the process by which 
these principles come to be implanted or developed in the 
minds of the young; for all must admit that in early infan- 
cy they are not there, or, at least, that they do not appear. 
No one would expect to find in two infants — twin-brothers, 
we will suppose — creeping on the floor, with one apple be- 
tween them, that there could be, at that age, any principles 
of right or justice, or of brotherly love existing in their 
hearts that could prevent their both crying and quarrelling 
for it. " True," says one ; " but there are germs of those 
principles which, in time, will be developed." " No," re- 
joins another, "there are no germs of them, there are only 
capacities for them, through which, by Divine power, the 
germs may hereafter be introduced." But when we reflect 
upon the difliculty of forming any clear and practical idea 
of the difference between a germ — in a bud upon an apple- 



310 GENTLE MEASURES. 

tree, for instance — which may ultimately jDroduce fruit, and 
a capacity for producing it which may subsequently be de- 
veloped, and still more, how difficult is it to picture to our 
minds what is represented by these words in the case of a 
human soul, it would seem as if the apparent difference in 
people's opinions on such a point must be less a difference 
in respect to facts than in respect to the phraseology by 
which the facts should be represented. 

And there would seem to be confirmation of this view in 
the fact that the great apparent difference among men in 
regard to their theoretical views of human nature does not 
seem to produce any marked difference in their action in 
practically dealing with it. Some parents, it is true, habit- 
ually treat their children with gentleness, kindness, and 
love; others are harsh and severe in all their intercourse 
w^ith them. But we should find, on investigation, that such 
differences have very slight connection with the theoretical 
views of the nature of the human soul which the parents 
respectively entertain. Parents who in their theories seem 
to think the worst of the native tendencies of the human 
heart are often as kind and considerate and loving in their 
dealings with it as any; while no one would be at all sur- 
prised to find another, who is very firm in his belief in the 
native tendency of childhood to good, showing himself, in 
practically dealing with the actual conduct of children, fret- 
ful, impatient, complaining, and very ready to recognize, in 
fact, tendencies which in theory he seems to deny. And 
so^ two bank directors, or members of the board of man- 
agement of any industrial undertaking, when they meet 
in the street on Sunday, in returning from their respective 
places of public worship, if they fall into conversation on 
the moral nature of man, may find, or think they find, that 
they differ extremely in their views, and may even think 
each other bigoted or heretical, as the case may be ; but yet 



RELIGIOUS TRAINING. 311 

the next day, when they meet at a session of their board, 
and come to the work of actually dealing with the conduct 
and the motives of men, they may find that there is prac- 
tically no difference between them whatever. Or, if there 
should be any difference, such as would show itself in a 
greater readiness in one than in the other to j^lace confi- 
dence in the promises or to confide in the integrity of men, 
the difference would, in general, have no perceptible rela- 
tion whatever to the difference in the theological phraseol- 
ogy which they have been accustomed to hear and to assent 
to in their respective churches. All which seems to indi- 
cate, as has already been said, that the difference in ques- 
tion is rather apparent than real, and that it implies less 
actual disagreement about the facts of human nature than 
diversity in the phraseology by which the facts are repre- 
sented. 

Agency of the Divine Spirit. 

It may, however, be said that in this respect, if not in any 
other, there is a radical difference among parents in respect 
to human nature, in relation to the religious education of 
children — namely, that some think that the implanting of 
the right principles of repentance for all wrong-doing, and 
sincere desires for the future to conform in all things to 
the will of God, and seek the happiness and welfare of men, 
can not come except by a special act of Divine intervention, 
and is utterly beyond the reach — in resj^ect to any actual ef- 
ficiency — of all human instrumentalities. This is no doubt 
true ; but it is also no less true in respect to all the powers 
and capacities of the human soul, as well as to those per- 
taining to moral and religious duty. If the soul itself is 
the product of the creative agency of God, all its powers 
and faculties must be so, and, consequently, the develop- 
ment of them all — and there certainly can be no reason for 



313 GENTLE MEASURER 

making the sentiment of true and genuine piety an excep- 
tion — must be the work of the same creative power. 

But some one may say, There is, however, after all, a dif- 
ference ; for while we all admit that both the original en- 
trance of the embryo soul into existence, and every step of 
its subsequent progress and development, including the 
coming into being and into action of all its various facul- 
ties and powers, are the work of the Supreme creative pow- 
er, the commencement of the divine life in the soul is, in a 
special and peculiar sense, the work of the Divine hand. 

And this also is doubtless true ; at least, there is a cer- 
tain important truth expressed in that statement. And yet 
when we attempt to picture to our minds two modes of 
Divine action, one of which is special and peculiar, and the 
other is not so, w^e are very likely to find ourselves bewil- 
dered and confused, and we soon perceive that in making 
such inquiries we are going out of our depth — or, in other 
words, are attempting to pass beyond the limits which 
mark the present boundaries of human knowledge. 

In view of these thoughts and suggestions, in the truth 
of which it would seem that all reasonable persons must 
concur, w^e may reasonably conclude that all parents who 
are willing to look simply at the facts, and who are not too 
much trammelled by the forms of phraseology to which 
they are accustomed, must agree in admitting the substan- 
tial soundness of the following principles relating to the re- 
ligious education of children. 

Order of Development in respect to different Propensities 

and Powers. 

1. We must not expect any perceptible awakening of the 
moral and religious sentiments too soon, nor feel discour- 
aged and disheartened because they do not earlier appear ; 
for, like all the other higher attributes of the soul, they per- 



RELIGIOUS TRAINING. 315 

tain to a portion of the mental structure which is not early 
developed. It is the group of purely animal instincts that 
first show themselves in the young, and those even, as we 
see in the young of the lower animals, generally appear 
somewhat in the order in which they are required for the 
individual's good. Birds just hatched from the egg seem 
to have, for the first few days, only one instinct ready for 
action — that of opening their mouths wide at the approach 
of any thing towards their nest. Even this instinct is so 
imperfect and immature that it can not distinguish between 
the coming of their mother and the appearance of the face 
of a boy peering down upon them, or even the rustling of 
the leaves around them by a stick. In process of time, as 
their wings become formed, another instinct begins to ap- 
pear — that of desiring to use the wings and come forth 
into the air. The development of this instinct and the 
growth of the wings advance together. Later still, when 
the proper period of maturity arrives, other instincts ap- 
pear as they are required — such as the love of a mate, the 
desire to construct a nest, and the principle of maternal af- 
fection. 

Now there is something analogous to this in the order of 
development to be observed in the progress of the human 
being through the period of infancy to that of maturity, 
and we must not look for the development of any power or 
susceptibility before its time, nor be too much troubled if 
we find that, in the first two or three years of life, the ani- 
mal propensities — which are more advanced in respect to 
the organization which they depend upon — seem sometimes 
to overpower the higher sentiments and princij^les, which, 
so far as the capacity for them exists at all, must be yet in 
embryo. We must be willing to wait for each to be devel 
oped in its own appointed time. 



«16 GENTLE MEASUBES. 

Dependence upon Divine Aid, 

2. Any one who is ready to feel and to acknowledge his 
dependence upon Divine aid for any thing whatever in the 
growth and preservation of his child, will surely be ready 
to do so in respect to the work of developing or awakening 
in his heart the principles of piety, since it must be admitted 
by all that the human soul is the highest of all the mani- 
festations of Divine power, and that that portion of its 
structure on which the existence and exercise of the moral 
and religious sentiments depend is the crowning glory of 
it. It is right, therefore — I mean right, in the sense of be- 
being truly philosophical — that if the parent feels and ac- 
knowledges his dependence upon Divine power in any 
thing, he should specially feel and acknowledge it here ; 
while there is nothing so well adapted as a deep sense of 
this dependence, and a devout and habitual recognition of 
it, and reliance upon it, to give earnestness and efficiency to 
his efforts, and to furnish a solid ground of hope that they 
will be crowned with success. 

The Christian Paradox. 

3. The great principle so plainly taught in the Sacred 
Scriptures — namely, that while we depend upon the exer- 
cise of Divine power for the success of all our efforts for 
our own spiritual improvement or that of others, just as if 
we could do nothing ourselves, we must do every thing that 
is possible ourselves, just as if nothing was to be expected 
from Divine power — may be called the Christian paradox. 
"Work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, 
for it is God that worketh in you both to will and to do." 
It would seem, it might be thought, much more logical to 
say, " Work out your own salvation, for there is nobody to 
help you ;" or, " It is not necessary to make any effort your- 



RELIGIOUS TRAINING. 317 

selves, for it is God that worketh in you." It seems strange 
and paradoxical to say, " Work out your own salvation, for 
it is God that loorketh in you both to will and to do." 

But in this, as in all other paradoxes, the difficulty is in 
the explanation of the theory, and not in the practical work- 
ing of it. There is in natural philosophy what is called the 
hydrostatic paradox, which consists in the fact that a small 
quantity of any liquid — as, for example, the coffee in the 
nose of the coffee-pot — will balance and sustain a very 
much larger quantity — as that contained in the body of it 
— so as to keep the surface of each at the same level. 
Young students involve themselves sometimes in hopeless 
entanglements among the steps of the mathematical demon- 
stration showing how this can be, but no housekeeper ever 
meets with any practical difficulty in making her coffee rest 
quietly in its place on account of it. The Christian para- 
dox, in the same way, gives rise to a great deal of meta- 
physical floundering and bewilderment among young theo- 
logians in their attempts to vindicate and explain it, but 
the humble-minded Christian parent finds no difficulty in 
practice. It comes very easy to him to do all he can, just 
as if every thing depended upon his efforts, and at the same 
time to cast all his care upon God, just as if there was noth- 
ins^ at all that he himself could do. 

Means must he Right Means. 

4. We are apt to imagine — or, at least, to act sometimes 
as if we imagined — that our dependence upon the Divine 
aid for what our Saviour, Jesus, designated as the new 
birth, makes some difference in the obligation on our part 
to employ such means as are naturally adapted to the end 
in view. If a gardener, for example, were to pour sand 
from his watering-pot upon his flowers, in time of drought, 
instead of water, he might make something like a plausible 



318 GENTLE MEASUBES. 

defense of his action, in reply to a remonstrance, thus : "/ 
have no power to make the flowers grow and bloom. The 
secret processes on which the successful result depends are 
altogether beyond my reach, and in the hands of God, and 
he can just as easily bless one kind of instrumentality as 
another. I am bound to do something, it is true, for I must 
not be idle and inert ; but God, if he chooses to do so, can 
easily bring out the flowers into beauty and bloom, how- 
ever imperfect and ill-adapted the instrumentalities I use 
may be. He can as easily make use, for this purpose, of 
sand as of water." 

Now", although there may be a certain plausibility in 
this reasoning, such conduct would appear to every one 
perfectly absurd; and yet many parents seem to act on a 
similar principle. A mother who is from time to time, 
during the week, fretful and impatient, evincing no sincere 
and hearty consideration for the feelings, still less for the 
substantial welfare and happiness, of those dependent upon 
her ; who shows her insubmission to the will of God, by 
complaints and repinings at any thing untoward that be- 
falls her; and who evinces a selfish love for her own grat- 
ification — her dresses, her personal pleasures, and her fash- 
ionable standing ; and then, as a means of securing the sal- 
vation of her children, is very strict, when Sunday comes, 
in enforcing upon them the study of their Sunday lessons, 
or in requiring them to read good books, or in repressing 
on that day any undue exuberance of their spirits — relying 
upon the blessing of God upon her endeavors — will be very 
apt to find, in the end, that she has been watering her deli- 
cate flowers with sand. 

The means which we use to awaken or impart the feel- 
ings of sorrow for sin, submission to God, and cordial 
good-will to man, in which all true piety consists, must be 
means that are appropriate in themselves to the accom* 



RELIGIOUS TRAmiNQ. 319 

plishment of the end intended. The appliance must be 
water, and not sand— or rather water or sand, with judo-, 
ment, discrimination, and tact; for the gardener often finds 
that a judicious mixture of sand with the clayey and 
clammy soil about the roots of his plants is just what is 
required. The prmciple is, that the appliance must be an 
appropriate one— that is, one indicated by a wise consid- 
eration of the circumstances of the case, and of the natural 
characteristics of the infantile mind. 

Power of Sympathy. 

5. In respect to religious influence over the minds of 
children, as in all other departments of early training, the 
tendency to sympathetic action between the heart of the 
child and the parent is the great source of the parental 
influence and power. The principle, " Make a young per- 
son love you, and then simply he in his presence what you 
wish him to be," is the secret of success. 

The tendency of yo> ag children to become what they 
see those around them whom they love are, seems to be 
altogether the most universally acting and the most pow- 
erful of the influences on which the formation of the char- 
acter depends ; and yet it is remarkable that we have no 
really appropriate name for it. We call it sometimes sym- 
pathy; but the word sympathy is associated more fre- 
quently in our minds with the idea of compassionate par- 
ticipation in the sufferings of those we love. Sometimes we 
term it a spirit of imitation, but that phrase implies rather 
a conscious effort to act like those whom we love, than 
that involuntary tendency to hecome like them, which is the 
real character of the principle in question. The principle is 
in some respects like what is called induction in physical 
science, which denotes the tendency of a body, which is in 
any particular magnetic or electric condition, to produce 



320 GENTLE MEASURES. 

the same condition, and the same direction of polarity, in 
any similar body placed near it. There is a sort of moral 
induction^ which is not exactly sympathy, in the ordinary 
sense of that word, nor a desire of imitation, nor the power 
of example, but an immediate, spontaneous, and even un- 
conscious tendency to hecome ichat those around us are. 
This tendency is very strong in the young while the open- 
ing faculties are in the course of formation and develop- 
ment, and it is immensely strengthened by the influence 
of love. Whatever, therefore, a mother wishes her child 
to be — whether a sincere, honest Christian, submissive to 
God's will and conscientious in the discharge of every 
duty, or proud, vain, deceitful, hypocritical, and pharisaical 
— she has only to be either the one or the other herself, 
and without any special teaching her child Avill be pretty 
sure to be a good copy of the model. 

Theological Instruction. 

6. If the principle above stated is correct, it helps to 
explain why so little good effect is ordinarily produced by 
what may be called instruction in theological truth on the 
minds of the young. Any system of theological truth 
consists of grand generalizations, which, like all other gen- 
eralizations, are very interesting, and often very profitable, 
to mature minds, especially to minds of a certain class ; 
but they are not appreciable by children, and can only in 
general be received by them as words to be fixed in the 
memory by rote. Pai'ticulars first, generalizations after- 
wards, is, or ought to be, the order of progress in all ac- 
quisition of knowledge. This certainly has been the course 
pursued by the Divine Spirit in the moral training of the 
human race. There is very little systematic theology in 
the Old Testament, and it requires a considerable degree 
of ingenuity to make out as much as the theologians de- 



EELIGIOUS IFcAIXING. 32i 

sire to find even in the teachings of Jesus Christ. It is 
very well to exercise this ingenuity, and the systematic re- 
sults which are to be obtained by it may be very interest- 
ing, and very beneficial, to those whose minds are mature 
enough to enter into and appreciate them. But they are 
not adapted to the spiritual wants of children, and can 
only be received by them, if they are received at all, in a 
dry, formal, mechanical manner. Read, therefore, the sto- 
ries in the Old Testament, or the parables and discourses 
of Jesus in the Xew, without attempting to draw many in- 
ferences from them in the way of theoretical belief, but 
simply to bring out to the mind and heart of the child the 
moral point intended in each particular case, and the heart 
of the child will be touched, and he will receive an element 
of instruction which he can arrange and group with oth- 
ers in theological generalization by-and-by, when his facul- 
ties have advanced to the o'eneralizinof stasfe. 

JVo re2mlsive Personal ApjMcations. 
1. In reading the Scriptures, and, indeed, in all forms 
of giving religious counsel or instruction, we must gener- 
ally beware of presenting the thoughts that we commu- 
nicate in the form of reproachful personal application. 
TPi^re may be exceptions to this rule, but it is undoubt- 
edly, in general, a sound one. For the work which we 
have to do, is not to attempt to di'ive the heart from the 
wrong to the right by any repellent action which the 
wrong may be made to exert, but to allure it by an at- 
tractive action with which the right may be invested. We 
must, therefore, present the incidents and instructions of 
the Word in their alluring aspect — assuming, in a great 
measure, that our little pupil will feel pleasure with us in 
the manifestations of the right, and will sympathize with 
us in disapproval of the wrong. To secure them to our 

02 



333 GENTLE MEASURES. 

side, in the views which we take, we must show a dispo- 
sition to take them to it by an affectionate sympathy. 

Our Saviour set us an excellent examj^le of relying on 
the superior efficiency of the bond of sympathy and love 
in its power over the hearts of children, as compared with 
that of formal theological instruction, in the few glimpses 
which we have of his mode of dealing with them. When 
they brought little children to him, he did not begin to ex- 
pound to them the principles of the government of God, or 
the theoretical aspects of the way of salvation; but took 
them iq:) in his arms and blessed them^ and called the atten- 
tion of the by-standers at the same time to qualities and 
characteristics which they possessed that he seemed to re- 
gard wath special affection, and w'hich others must imitate 
to be fit for the kingdom of God. Of course the children 
went away pleased and happy from such an interview, and 
would be made ready by it to receive gladly to their hearts 
any truths or sentiments which they might subsequently 
hear attributed to one who was so kind a friend to them. 

If, however, instead of this, he had told them — no matter 
in what kind and gentle tones — that they had very wicked 
hearts, which must be changed before either God or any 
good man could truly love them, and that this change could 
only be produced by a power which they could only under- 
stand to be one external to themselves, and that they must 
earnestly pray for it every day, how different would have 
been the effect. They would have listened in mute dis- 
tress, would have been glad to make their escape when the 
conversation was ended, and would shrink from ever seeing 
or hearing again one who placed himself in an attitude so 
uncongenial to them. 

And yet all that might be true. They might have had 
yet only such appetites and propensities developed within 
them as would, if they continued to hold paramount control 



RELIGIOUS TRAINING. 333 

over them all their lives, make them selfish, unfeeling, and 
wicked men ; and that they were, in a special though mys- 
terious manner, dependent on the Divine power for bring, 
ing into action within them other and nobler principle! 
And so, if a physician were called in to see a sick child, he 
might see that it was in desperate danger, and that unless 
something could be done, and that speedily, to arrest the 
disease, his little patient would be dead in a few hours ; 
and yet to say that to the poor child, and overwhelm it 
with terror and distress, would not be a very suitable 
course of procedure for averting the apprehended result. 

Judge not, that ye he not judged. 
8. And this leads us to reflect, in the eighth place, that 
we ought to be very careful, in our conversations with chil- 
dren, and especially in addresses made to them in the San- 
day-school, or on any other occasion, not to say any thing 
to imply that we consider them yet unconverted sinners. 
No one can possibly know at how early an age that great 
change which consists in the first faint enkindling of the Di- 
vine life in the soul may begin to take place, nor with what 
faults, and failings, and yieldings to the influence of the 
mere animal appetites and passions of childhood it may, for 
a time, co-exist. We should never, therefore, say any thing 
to children to imply that, in the great question of their re- 
lations to God and the Saviour, we take it for granted that 
they are on the wrong side. We can not possibly know on 
which side they really are, and we only dishearten and dis- 
courage them, and alienate their hearts from us, and tend 
to alienate them from all good, by seeming to take it for 
granted that, while loe are on the right side, they are still 
upon the wrong. We should, in a word, say loe, and not 
you, in addressing children on religious subjects, so as to 
imply that the truths and sentiments which we express are 



334 GENTLE MEASURES. 

equally important and equally applicable to us as to them, 
and thus avoid creating that feeling of being judged and 
condemned beforehand, and without evidence, which is so 
apt to produce a broad though often invisible gulf of sepa- 
ration in heart between children, on the one hand, and min- 
isters and members of the Church, on the other. 

Promised Rewards and threatened Pmiishments. 

9. It is necessary to be extremely moderate and cautious 
in employing the influence of promised rewards or threat- 
ened punishments as a means of promoting early piety. In 
a religious point of view, as in every other, goodness that is 
bought is only a pretense of goodness — that is, in reality it 
is no goodness at all ; and as it is true that love casteth out 
fear, so it is also true that fear casteth out love. Suppose 
— though it is almost too violent a supposition to be made 
even for illustration's sake — that the whole Christian w^orld 
could be suddenly led to believe that there w^as to be no 
happiness or suffering at all for them beyond the grave, and 
that the inducement to be grateful to God for his goodness 
and submissive to his will, and to be warmly interested in 
the welfare and happiness of man, were henceforth to rest 
on the intrinsic excellence of those principles, and to their 
constituting essentially the highest and noblest development 
of the moral and spiritual nature of man — how many of 
the professed disciples of Jesus would abandon their pres- 
ent devotion to the cause of love to God and love to man ? 
Not one, except the hypocrites and pretenders ! 

The truth is, that as piety that is genuine and sincere 
must rest on very different foundations from hope of fu- 
ture reward or fear of future punishment, so this hope and 
this fear are very unsuitable instrumentalities to be relied 
on for awakening it. The kind of gratitude to God which 
we wish to cherish in the mind of a child is not such as 



RELIGIOUS TEAINING. 325 

would be awakened towards an earthly benefactor by say- 
ing — in the case of a present made by an uncle, for instance 
— " Your uncle has made you a beautiful present. Go and 
thank him very cordially, and perhaps you will get anoth- 
er," It is rather of a kind which might be induced by 
saying, " Your uncle, who has been so kind to you in past 
years, is poor and sick, and can never do any thing more 
for you now. Would you like to go and sit in his sick- 
room to show your love for him, and to be ready to help 
him if he wants any thing ?" 

True piety, in a word, which consists in entering into 
and steadily maintaining the right moral and spiritual re- 
lations with God and man, marks the highest condition 
which the possibilities of human nature allow, and must 
rest in the soul which attains to it on a very different 
foundation from any thing like hope or fear. That there 
is a function which it is the province of these motives to 
fulfill, is abundantly proved by the use that is sometimes 
made of them in the Scriptures. But the more we reflect 
upon the subject, the more we shall be convinced, I think, 
that all such considerations ought to be kept very much in 
the back-ground in our dealings with children. If a child 
is sick, and is even likely to die, it is a very serious ques- 
tion- whether any warning given to him of his danger will 
not operate as a hindrance rather than a help, in awaken- 
ing those feelings which will constitute the best state of 
preparation for the change. For a sense of gratitude to 
God for his goodness, and to the Saviour for the sacrifice 
which he made for his sake, penitence for his sins, and 
trust in the forgiving mercy of his Maker, are the feelings 
to be awakened in his bosom j and these, so far as they 
exist, will lead him to lie quietly, calmly, and submissively 
in God's hands, without anxiety in respect to what is be- 
fore him. It is a serious question whether an entire nn- 



326 GENTLE MEASUIiES. 

certainty as to the time when his death is to come is not 
more favorable to the awakening of these feelings, than 
the state of alarm and distress which would be excited by 
the thought that it was near. 

The B^easonahleness of Gentle Measures in Religious 

Training, 

The mother may sometimes derive from certain religious 
considerations the idea that she is bound to look upon the 
moral delinquencies and dangers which she observes in her 
children, under an aspect more stern and severe than seems 
to be here recommended. But a little reflection must con- 
vince us that the way to true repentance of, and turning 
from sin, is not necessarily through the suffering of terror 
and distress. The Gospel is not an instrumentality for pro- 
ducing terror and distress, even as means to an end. It 
is an instrumentality for saving us from these ills ; and 
the Divine Spirit, in the hidden and mysterious influence 
which it exercises in forming, or transforming, the human 
soul into the image of God, must be as ready, it would 
seem, to sanction and bless efforts made by a mother to 
allure her child away from its sins by loving and gentle 
invitations and encouragements, as any attempts to drive 
her from them by the agency of terror or pain. It would 
seem that no one who remembers the way in which Jesus 
Christ dealt with the children that were brought to him 
could possibly have any doubt of this. 



CONCL USION. 32-3 



CHAPTER XXIV. 
CONCLUSION. 

Amr persoD who has acquired the art of examining and 
analyzing his own thoughts will generally find that the 
mental pictures which he forms of the landscapes, or the 
interiors, in which the scenes are laid of the events or in- 
cidents related in any work of fiction which interests him, 
are modelled more or less closely from j^rototypes pre- 
viously existing in his own mind, and generally upon those 
furnished by the experiences of his childhood. If, for ex- 
ample, he reads an account of transactions represented as 
taking place in an English palace or castle, he will usually, 
on a careful scrutiny, find that the basis of his conception 
of the scene is derived from the arrangement of the rooms 
of some fine house with which he was familiar in early 
life. Thus, a great many things which attract our atten- 
tion, and impress themselves upon our memories in child- 
hood, become the models and prototypes — more or less ag- 
grandized and improved, perhaps — of the conceptions and 
images which we form in later years. 

Mature of the Effect produced by Early Impressions. 

Few persons who have not specially reflected on this 
subject, or examined closely the operations of their own 
minds, are aware what an extended influence the images 
thus stored in the mind in childhood have in forming the 
basis, or furnishing the elements of the mental structures 
of future life. But the truth, when once understood, shows 
of what vast importance it is with what images the youth- 



328 GENTLE MEASURES. 

fill miiid is to be stored. A child who ascends a lofty 
mountain, under favorable circumstances in his childhood, 
has his conceptions of all the mountain scenery that he 
reads of, or hears of through life, modified and aggran- 
dized by the impression made upon his sensorium at this 
early stage. Take your daughter, who has always, we will 
suppose, lived in the country, on an excursion with you to 
the sea-shore, and allow her to witness for an hour, as she 
sits in silence on the cliff, the surf rolling in incessantly 
upon the beach, and infinitely the smallest part of the ef- 
fect is the day's gratification which you have given herr 
That is comparatively nothing. You have made a life-long 
change, if not in the very structure, at least in the perma- 
nent furnishing of her mind, and performed a work that 
can never by any possibility be undone. The images which 
have been awakened in her mind, the emotions connected 
wath them, and the effect of these images and emotions 
upon her faculties of imagination and conception, will in- 
fuse a life into them which will make her, in respect to this 
aspect of her spiritual nature, a different being as long as 
she lives. 

The Nature and Origin of general Ideas. 

It is the same substantially in respect to all those ab- 
stract and general ideas on moral or other kindred subjects 
w^hich constitute the mental furnishing of the adult man, 
and have so great an influence in the formation of his hab- 
its of thought and of his character. •: They are chiefly form- 
ed from combinations of the impressions made in childhood. 
A person's idea of justice, for instance, or of goodness, is a 
generalization of the various instances of justice or good- 
ness which ever came to his knowledge; and of course, 
among the materials of this generalization those instances 
tliat were brought to his mind during the impressible years 



CONCLUSIO:^. 339 

of childhood must have taken a very prominent part. Ev- 
ery story, therefore, which you relate to a child to exempli- 
fy the principles of justice or goodness takes its place, or, 
rather, the impression which it makes takes its place, as one 
of the elements out of which the ideas that are to govern 
his future life are formed. 

Yast Importance and Influence of this mental Fur- 
nishing. 

For the ideas and generalizations thus mainly formed 
from the images and impressions received in childhood be- 
come, in later years, the elements of the machinery, so to 
speak, by which all his mental operations are performed. 
Thus they seem to constitute more than the mere furniture 
of the mind ; they form, as it were, almost a part of the 
structure itself. So true, indeed, is this, and so engrossing 
a part does what remains in the mind of former impres- 
sions play in its subsequent action, that some philosophers 
have maintained that the whole of the actual consciousness 
of man consists only in the resultant of all these impres- 
sions preserved more or less imperfectly by the memory, 
and made to mingle together in one infinitely complicated 
but harmonious whole. Without going to any such extreme 
as this, we can easily see, on reflection, how vast an influence 
on the ideas and conceptions, as well as on the principles of 
action in mature years, must be exerted by the nature and 
character of the images which the period of infancy and 
childhood impresses upon the mind. All parents should, "» 
therefore, feel that it is not merely the present welfare and 
happiness of their child that is concerned in their securing 
to him a tranquil and happy childhood, but that his capaci- 
ty for enjoyment through life is greatly dependent upon it. f 
They are, in a very important sense, intrusted with the 
work of building up the structure of his soul for all time, 



330 GENTLE MEASURES. 

and it is incumbent upon them, with reference to the future 
as well as to the pi'esent, to be very careful what materials 
they allow to go into the work, as well as in what manner 
they lay them. 

Among the other bearings of this thought, it gives great 
weight to the importance of employing gentle measures in 
the management and training of the young, provided that 
such measures can be made effectual in the accomplishment 
of the end. The pain produced by an act of hasty and an- 
gry violence to which a father subjects his son may soon 
pass away, but the memory of it does not jjass away with 
the pain. Even the remembrance of it may at length fade 
from the mind, but there is still an effect which does not 
pass away with the remembrance. Every strong impres- 
sion which you make upon his perceptive powers must 
have a very lasting influence, and even the impression it- 
self may, in some cases, be forever indelible. 

Let us, then, take care that these impressions shall be, as 
far as possible, such as shall be sources of enjoyment for 
them in future years. It is true that we must govern 
them. They are committed to our charge during the long 
time which is required for the gradual unfolding of their 
embryo powers for the express purpose that during that 
interval they may be guided by our reason, and not by 
their own. We can not surrender this trust. But there 
is a way of faithfully fulfilling the duties of it — if we have 
discernment to see it, and skill to follow it — which will 
make the years of their childhood years of tranquillity and 
happiness, both to ourselves and to them. 



THE END. 



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